He stared at her as she pulled off her thin veil, her soft blue eyes glistening as she looked up at him. He had always loved how short she was. She had always loved how tall he was.
He had always loved her laugh, her smile, her body, and her gaze. He loved how she cooked, how she slept, and how she only used flower scented hygiene products. She smelled like a garden. He loved how she loved him.
She loved how he held her, how he kissed her, how he carried her, and how he cradled her. She loved how he drove, how he worked, how he read, and how he was allergic to mint and used fruity kid’s toothpaste. He always tasted so sugary.
It was only a matter of time before he knew that their child wasn’t his, as she hadn’t let him touch her for nearly a year.