My eyes filled.
“I'd be honored.”
On the wedding day, a small photograph of Ethan stood beside a candle.
He was seventeen in the picture.
Laughing.
Healthy.
Holding a terrible-looking birthday cake.
Caleb had chosen that photograph because it was the one he loved most.
Beside it lay a folded red ribbon.
Not the dress itself.
Just a small reminder.
During his speech, Caleb looked toward the photograph.
“Ethan would've made fun of me today.”
Everyone laughed.
“He'd probably say I was overdressed.”
Rachel smiled.
Caleb continued.
“But he'd also be happy.”
His voice softened.
“He always wanted me to stop being afraid of living.”
I began crying.
David squeezed my hand.
And I realized how much had changed.
For years, I'd worried that moving forward meant leaving Ethan behind.
Now I understood that loving him meant carrying the good things he taught us into the lives we still had.
