"Tell me about our wedding, Grandmother," I asked, keeping my voice light as I poured her morning tea. "I'd love to hear your memories."
Old Mrs. Margaret's eyes sparkled with delight. "Oh, it wasn't a big affair. You two were quite determined to keep it private."
Nathaniel, seated across from us, tensed slightly. I noticed his knuckles whitening around his coffee cup.
"And the marriage certificate?" I pressed gently. "Do you remember us signing it?"
"Of course!" She patted my hand. "You wore that lovely red sweater. Such a beautiful color against your skin. Nate couldn't take his eyes off you."
Red sweater? That detail felt oddly specific.
"When was this, Grandmother?" I asked, heart racing.
"Two years ago, dear." She frowned suddenly. "Or was it three? The years blur together now."
Nathaniel set down his cup with a controlled click against the saucer. "Grandmother, don't strain yourself with these memories."
