Chapter Eight

        My butt was getting sore from sitting so long. Taking off my reading glasses, I stood and paced the room to loosen the cramps. I walked back and forth across the room, passing the bed, bureaus, and a large dressing table covered with framed photographs. I was on my third pass when I noticed the small frame on the corner of the table.
        The picture was old. It was taken so many years ago. I looked so young and full of life. My cheeks were red and there was a sparkle in my eye. It was the first picture I sent to James.
        What had he seen in that picture that made him fall in love? Or was it my words? Or maybe a combination of both?
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