My wife Claire died five years ago. I raised our daughter Emily alone. We went to my best friend Lucas’s wedding to celebrate a new beginning. But when the groom lifted the bride’s veil, I saw Claire’s face. Emily tugged my sleeve and whispered, ‘Daddy, why is Mommy marrying Uncle Lucas
The wedding hall was glowing with warm amber lights, the kind of soft radiance that made everything look more forgiving, more romantic. My daughter, Emily, clutched my hand as we walked toward the rows of white chairs. At ten years old, she had her mother’s big hazel eyes and the same little crease between her…