Projection

56 • her

He stood with teary eyes in front of Marie. She was smiling softly. His hair was tousled, but he was wearing the denim shorts and loose white blouse she chose for him, for her. The cream bralette could be seen at the base of her neck.

"Sweetheart, come here."

Abel shuffled forward, trying not to sob.

"What do you see?"

He slowly, reluctantly, let his eyes drift upward. They took in the worn black and white Vans on his feet. There was some white blond leg hair that made him cringe inwardly, but stopped as the shorts covered the most upper parts of his thighs. The blouse was cinched at the waist but flowed freely to her shoulders. It dipped into a V and widened almost to her shoulders. The sleeves were cut short, but still noticeably there. The lace of the bralette rested against her neck.

He didn't dare look at his own face.

"I see her," he cried.

"Do you like her?"

"I love her." The tears came freely now. "She's so, so beautiful. She's bright and vibrant and so full of life. She's not afraid and loves to try new things." He took a break to catch his breath. "She has the most beautiful eyes. I've never seen so much happiness in anyone's eyes before her."

"You know what the best part about her is though?"

He shook his head.

"She's standing right in front of me."