Edward appreciated his own veneration for his wife, as she gently removed his shirt. She was so exquisite in her understanding, so altruistic with her affections that he often found himself in disbelief of the extent of her virtue. Jane rose to her feet in front of him, and witnessed the solid flesh of his torso: dark and vast and scarred. She stated, "Edward," endearingly yet with a solemn seriousness. He believed her the quintessence of goodness, and, now, standing before him, baring all, and commanding his attention with adjuration, he craved her, body and soul, more than he ever had.

He stood up and gazed down at her small, sweet form. His sight was still weak, but even he could see that the body of this tiny woman still did not do her immensely full, generous and intelligent spirit justice. Even so, she was like a dream; one he had had many times. Edward reached, captivated and brushed her shoulder with his hand as he slid her sleeve down her arm. She waited patiently, comprehending the significance of the moment but still fearing his judgment. He continued, unstoppable now, and the dress was removed. His breathing was heavy as he moved to unlace the remaining garments, and her breath caught the beat. Jane felt more vulnerable than she ever had, even on their wedding night, but she was excited too, and, for his sake, she felt anticipation almost beyond endurance.

Edward felt as though he had waited his whole life for that night; that it was the final manifestation of God's sanction of his marriage with her. He had seen a woman's body before, and, in fact, many, but none of them had been so dear to him. Their flesh had never illuminated so ethereally with heavenly approval. Continuing as if in a trance, he exposed the true miracle and gazed in climactic wonderment. Regaining his sight would be nothing to him if he did not have her to grace the world he saw around him. God had known that. God had designed his misfortunes to punish, to induce repentance, but he had also designed them to inspire sincere recognition of a higher power, which had the ability to give as well as to take. She, Jane, was his reward: flesh and bone, spirit and intellect, heart and soul.

She was naked and uncertain. The only thing Jane wore was the pocket watch she had carried for them both since her return. He touched it tenderly, but he did not take it off. It was hers now; she had earned it. It was her burden to bear, and he would never deny her it. Smiling, Edward put his arms around her. He sat down on the bed and pulled her toward him. She put her hands on his shoulders and around his neck. He guided her down to lie on the bed and then bent over her in amazement. The woman he married was beautiful to him in every way it was possible to be.

In the morning, Edward woke before she did. He lay on the bed facing her, waiting for her eyes to open. Her face was turned toward his, and when they finally did open, and his eye connected with hers, he smiled. Remembering herself and the precedent events of the night before, she smiled back. He shifted toward her and placed a kiss on her softly parted lips. Her hair was messed, and her eyes were puffy, but she still seemed to glow. They soon rose to start their day. Never would life be quite the same. He would not be required to stay constantly by her side, however, as they approached the stairs to go down to breakfast, he grabbed her hand. He would walk arm in arm with her until God saw fit to part them. Blind or not, he could never render himself from her.