My husband of 26 years was supposed to be on a fishing trip. Instead, I found him in my hotel lobby with a woman half his age, touching her like he knew her very well. When she saw me and went pale, I knew whatever he was hiding was about to shatter everything.
The first time I saw Kellan, he was as sunburned as a ripe tomato.
He was standing in a hardware store, locked in a heated argument about a broken lawn mower blade.
I married him six months later.
We built our life the way people used to — one monthly payment at a time.
“You sure about this?” I asked him the night we brought our son, Ethan, home from the hospital.
The apartment felt too small, the world felt too big, and I felt entirely unqualified to keep a human being alive.
Kellan looked absolutely terrified, staring at the tiny bundle in the plastic bassinet.
But then he picked up that baby and held him like he had been born knowing exactly how to do it.
The years that followed are a bit of a blur now, but they were mostly good.
We had rough patches, just like any couple.
There was a heart-stopping moment when the kids were both under ten years old, when I thought he was cheating on me, but it turned out to be nothing.
I remember the night I confronted him about it, and he presented me with two tickets to see my favorite musical.
“I was saving these for your birthday, but now…” he hung his head.
“I’ve been working overtime to get these, Mare. I’m sorry you thought I was cheating on you. If I’d ever thought it would come off that way…”
That could’ve broken us, but it only made us stronger.
We were never the loud couple.
We were the couple with the color-coded schedules on the fridge, shared digital calendars, and a coffee order that hadn’t changed in 20 years.
I thought we were solid.
The kids left one by one to attend college and didn’t come back. They settled into their own lives, and the house got bigger.
Or maybe we just got smaller inside of it.
“Do you ever think about what comes next?” I asked him one night last fall.
We were sitting in the kitchen after dinner.
He’d retired only three months earlier, but I still had a few more years of work before I could join him.
“Next?” He looked up from his newspaper.
“Retirement. Life. Just…
us,” I clarified.
He leaned back in his chair. “I thought this was the goal, Mare. The quiet.
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