My husband died right after we got married, but when I stepped into a taxi, he turned around and looked at me!

“Where are you?” I asked. “I’ll come. But don’t you ever do this to me again.”

And that was how I found myself in a new country, starting over. The language is foreign, the streets unfamiliar, but the ocean is close, and the sun feels like promise. Torin and I married again, quietly this time, with no enemies watching. For the first time, our life is ours alone.

Sometimes, when I lie beside him and hear his steady breathing, I remember the pain of losing him. But then I remind myself—we were given a second chance. And I’ll never waste it.