The Wife He Never Saw
I spent decades taking care of my kid and the elderly. I ignored my stomach pain until it turned into cancer.
By the end, it had eaten me alive.
Before I died, I went back to my old family home to sort through my stuff. That's when I found Danny's diary.
My dead husband's diary.
Hidden for fifteen years.
I carefully flipped through it until I reached the last page.
[Some loves are worth dying for. Alicia, I'm coming with you.]
The diary never mentioned me.
Not once.
Page after page, it was all Alicia.
That was when I learned Danny hadn't died in an accident. He and Alicia Doyle—the woman he never got over—had chosen to die together.
I sank onto a chair and stared at his framed photo.
"Danny Caldwell, if you loved her that much, did you regret marrying me?"
Blood filled my throat. I threw his picture to the floor.
"Because I regret marrying you."
When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the past.
This time, I refused to rot in a loveless marriage. I walked out and never looked back.
He smirked and told his friends, "She'll crawl back. Bet she won't last three hours."
But three hours passed.
Then three days.
Then three months.
I never came back.
Later, he asked when I'd return to him.
My answer was simple.
"Never."