We always used to joke about the way we met, on a snow covered mountain. I broke my ankle on purpose you said. I still remember you carrying me down to the lodge. I’m not the fallen heroine type. I can look after myself but you were there and I couldn’t get down the mountain.
You said, behind us, was some kind of snow angel.
Someone watching over me, keeping me safe, that you heard a voice on the breeze, saying I was stuck on the glacier.
I’m glad we met, our relationship slow at first. A friend was the only thing I wanted. Now, we are getting married on the same mountain. I looked at the mountain, pristine white, and thought, I could see that angel wishing, waiting, and carrying us home.