And then he had given her that gift.
He was kicking her out of the house because he wanted her to stay there for the rest of her life and didn’t know how to change things except by giving her something of his own, something he had made with passion, with love.
A second before she left, he had said
– Wait. –
He had left her in front of the door with her jacket and bag in hand, and had returned with that red thing.
– I want you to have it. –
– What is it? –
– A candle, I made it myself. –
And they had left.
Tara had taken it and held it in her hands, not understanding.
Then they got into the car and turned on the stereo.
“No flowers on the altar
No white veil in your hair
No maiden dress to alter
No Bible oath to swear”