He sat there in the sun and did as his wife asked him. He remembered the ring; he and Ben had gone shopping for it together. “This ring is a sign of what’s yet to come,” Ben said. “Pick out a winner, son.” And as soon as he had seen that stunning, simple ring, he knew.

He’d told his mother he was going to propose, and she gave him the biggest hug, then cried, then hugged him some more.

Then he’d gone to the cemetery where Lauren’s dad was buried. “Mr. Carlisle,” he said, feeling awkward and self-conscious. “I’d like to marry Lauren. I’ll take good care of her, and I’ll always put her happiness before mine.” He paused, then knelt next to the headstone. “She’s the most precious thing in the world to me. I bet you know how I feel.” And then he didn’t feel awkward anymore.

He asked Donna, who pointed out that they’d been dating only a few months (true, but Josh already knew Lauren was the one). Then she caved, and said he was a fine young man and it didn’t hurt that he had a lot of money, because people who said money didn’t matter were silly, because of course it did.

And then he’d asked Jen. Because Jen was Lauren’s hero, and she said, “I’d almost marry you myself, Joshua Park,” and hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, a big smacking kiss, and hugged him again.

He bought the suit just for that night, because he didn’t have one, and Mrs. Kim said it would be lucky to wear a new suit for the start of a new life. He called Lauren’s family and made the restaurant reservation for all of them, the two families, including Ben and Sumi of course, then met Lauren at her job so they could walk down to the park together.

He’d never been so sure of anything in his life. Lauren Rose Carlisle was meant to be his wife. He would’ve walked a mile barefoot on broken glass just to get her a napkin.

God, the happiness. The smugness that they’d have a long life together. Kids. Vacations, a house with a front porch and a swing in the yard.

Being widowed at thirty had never crossed his mind.

But his wife was right. The sadness shouldn’t cancel out what had been so bright and full and beautiful. Just because the cherry blossoms would fall didn’t mean you should mourn them on the tree.

“That sounds very profound, doesn’t it?” he asked Pebbles. The dog agreed, licking his face. “We should write that down.”