April

Martin stopped pacing, right when the first movement of Pachelbel's Canon started playing on the speakers. His palms felt oddly clammy, his heart beating rapidly at every note that reached his ears. Finally, the old nara doors opened bit by bit, groaning at the hinges as it did so. Light spilled into the gaps, almost blindingly, until it faded and made way to most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

She was breathtaking. The unruly, tangled mess of curls was long gone; dark locks rested on top of her head, perfectly curled into a bun, only leaving a few short wisps of hair framing her face. There was a certain shyness to her as she walked down the aisle to the song that they both promised that would play at their wedding. As he watched her smile grow at each step she took, he remembered how she used to smile only for him, how they went through their ups and downs when they were together; and he was reminded why he loved April, not just the month, but the person the most.