SCOTT

I am losing it again.

I can see her.

Smiling at me in that perfect white gown she wore to her sister's wedding, stretching a hand towards me and inviting me to join her for a dance with the others.

But this time it is just us in the center of the gloriously decorated garden.

I can still smell the rich fragrance of the bougainvillea and the nauseating scents of lilac, roses, and sunflowers.

Flowers were never my thing; a little waft always made me feel heady and nauseous. But I ...