He had asked her to meet him at noon on the bridge. She had said it was her favorite place, and noon was the perfect time. The sun would shine directly overhead and its light would kiss the water below and settle on it in a sheer film of iridescence. She would sit cross-legged on the highest point of the bridge, and he would sit across from her, watching her watch the water. The lilies would blanket the pond, gliding across the surface to leave one cluster and join another. They would stand up then, dust themselves off and lean over the bridge to catch their reflections in the little spaces between the lilies on the pond’s surface. Their faces would then linger on the water, framed by the flowers, suspended on the water.