It was a late night. I walked to the parking garage in a bit of a fog. Parked on the rooftop, I opted for the elevators rather than the stairs. There were four people waiting together, talking and laughing. I took notice of the woman: petite, white wavy hair to her shoulders. I noticed her shoes first, then her outfit. She had to have been in her seventies, but she seemed like a young woman, in how she stood, in her stylish strapped sandals with a small heel, but everything about her was elegant in an understated way.

We all entered the elevator, two men, the woman and her husband. She had a smile on her face–it never left. She glowed with happiness. They were all laughing about whatever they had been talking about. In my fog, I didn’t hear anything but the happiness.

She turned to me as if to tell me a secret and motioned with her eyes, “They just got married.”

“Ah,” I said. I was lost for words, but I managed to smile and hold her gaze for a moment.

We reached their floor and said our goodnights. The doors were about to close, the woman ten to twelve feet away by now, turned to me, gave a big smile and the sweetest wave goodbye like a little girl waving to her school friend. I waved back, smiling to her as the doors closed.

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