The Sky We Married Under

We moved the ceremony to nine in the evening because Elena wanted the stars, and everybody told us the light would be impossible. It was impossible. It was also the most beautiful hour of our lives.

Somebody's uncle walked the lawn with a box of lanterns, setting them down one at a time, and by the time we reached the vows the garden looked like a landing strip for something gentle.

The dial is that exact sky — Tuscany, 21:40, the night we married. She wears it on the days that need steadying.