My husband, Daniel, has always been the kind of man who treats our marriage like a sacred vow rather than a routine. In twelve years of marriage, he had never missed our anniversary—not for work, not for illness, not for anything. He was a man of tradition, a pilot who navigated the skies with precision but always found his way back to me for our special day.
This year, however, the universe seemed to have other plans. When the crew schedule was released, Daniel looked like he had been struck.
