I stood frozen in the doorway, trying to make sense of what I was hearing.
“Steve?” My voice sounded small, unsure.
He turned around slowly, guilt flickering across his face.
“Amber, I—”
I stepped closer, the air between us thick with unspoken words. “Who… who were you talking to?”
He took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping.
“I was talking to Stacy. My daughter.”
I stared at him, the weight of his words slowly sinking in. He’d told me he’d had a daughter.
I knew she had died. But I didn’t know about… this.
“She died in a car accident, with her mom,” he continued, his voice strained. “But sometimes I talk to her.
I know it sounds crazy, but I just… I feel like she’s still here with me. Especially today. I wanted her to know about you.
I wanted her to see how happy I am.”
I didn’t know what to say. My chest felt tight and I couldn’t quite catch my breath. Steve’s grief was raw, a living thing between us, and it made everything feel heavy.
But I didn’t feel scared.
I didn’t feel angry. Just… so sad. Sad for him, for everything he’d lost, and the way he’d been carrying it all alone.
His grief hurt me as though it were my own.
I sat down beside him, my hand finding his. “I get it,” I said softly. “I do.
You’re not crazy, Steve. You’re grieving.”
He let out a shaky breath, looking at me with such vulnerability that it nearly broke my heart. “I’m sorry.
I should’ve told you sooner. I just didn’t want to scare you away.”
“You’re not scaring me away,” I said, squeezing his hand. “We all have things that haunt us.
But we’re in this together now. We can carry this together.”
Steve’s eyes welled up with tears, and I pulled him into a hug, feeling the weight of his pain, his love, his fear, all of it wrapped up in that moment.
“Maybe… maybe we can talk to someone about it. A therapist, maybe.
It doesn’t have to be just you and Stacy anymore.”
He nodded against my shoulder, his grip on me tightening. “I’ve thought about it. I just didn’t know how to start.
Thank you for understanding, Amber. I didn’t know how much I needed this.”
I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, my heart swelling with a love deeper than I’d ever known. “We’ll figure it out, Steve.
Together.”
And as I kissed him, I knew we would. We weren’t perfect, but we were real, and for the first time, that felt like enough.
But that’s the thing about love, isn’t it? It’s not about finding some perfect person without any scars; it’s about finding someone whose scars you’re willing to share.
Source: amomama
