She wore a pink sundress.
That was what he loved most; her pink sundress.
The way it flowed around her and caught his eye the moment she stepped into the scene.
Her cheeks were a rosy pink, and a silver cross adorned her neck.
She walked with confidence and poise.
And when she kissed him, he could taste her sweet chapstick she had stolen from her sister a week prior.
She was stunning, elegant.
Her eyes bore into his, her soul working deep in their chocolate depths.
Her red hair bounced off her shoulders in long, flowing curls.
She was an angel.
And she was his.

------------

Kamryn Williams had been the wife of Anthony Williams for twelve years. They had five children. They'd bought a house together.
He still felt that he'd met her only yesterday.
He'd come home and his children would greet him. He'd set his briefcase down in the hallway and hang up his coat before calling, "Ryn, I'm home!"
Then she would say as she walked out of the kitchen, "Good morning, Mr. Williams."
"It's five o'clock in the evening," he'd reply.
"Shh," she'd snap, pressing a finger to his lips. "It's whatever time of day I say it is. Now kiss me."
And that was that. There were good days and bad days, but they made it work.
And every night as he turned off the lights he'd whisper, "I love you."
And everything was perfect.