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ASTRID An ominous dream wrenches me from a deep sleep. I wake up drenched in sweat to find myself cocooned by a massive body. My heartbeat slowly returns to normal as I stare up at my husband’s sleeping face and breathe him in. Subconsciously, I reach out and stroke a few rebellious hairs away from his forehead. It’s such a shame that none of our children have this shade of bright blond, except for Glyn’s natural balayage. The terror slowly subsides the more I touch him and sink further in his presence. I’ve been with this man for thirty years and he still causes a flutter in my chest and a dip in my stomach. When I think about that first time I met him—or more accurately, caught his attention—at the party I didn’t even want to be at, it feels just like yesterday. That day ended with my tragic accident, but that was also the beginning of us, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. We’ve come a long way from the teenagers we once were. Yes, it wasn’t always easy, especially with the kid