Amber had given up on love, but sparks fly when she meets her father’s old friend, Steve, at a barbecue. As their whirlwind relationship progresses to marriage, everything appears to be great. But on their wedding night, Amber finds Steve’s dark secret, which changes everything.
I drove up to my parents’ house and stared at the line of cars parked across the lawn.
“What’s this all about?” I muttered, already bracing myself for whatever family surprise awaited inside.
I grabbed the purse, secured the car, and walked toward the house, hoping nothing was too crazy.
As soon as I opened the door, the aroma of grilled meat greeted me, coupled with the sound of my father’s booming laugh. I strolled into the living room and looked out the back window.
Of course, Dad was having an impromptu barbecue. The entire backyard was full of people, the majority of whom worked at his auto repair shop.
“Amber!” Dad’s voice cut through my thoughts as he flipped burgers with the same apron he’d worn for years. “C’mon, grab a drink and join us. It’s just the guys from work.”
I tried not to groan. “Looks like the whole town’s here,” I mumbled, slipping off my shoes.
Before I could join in the customary, frantic environment, the doorbell rang. Dad threw down the spatula and wiped his hands on his apron.
“That must be Steve,” he remarked almost to himself. He looked at me as he grabbed for the doorknob. “You haven’t met him yet, right?”
Before I could respond, Dad had flung the door open.
“Steve!” he exclaimed, giving him a strong clap on the back. “Come on in, you’re just in time. Oh, and meet my daughter, Amber.”
When I looked up, my heart skipped a beat.
Steve was tall and a little rough around the edges in a ruggedly gorgeous way, with graying hair and warm, deep eyes. He smiled at me, and I felt an unexpected flutter in my chest.
“Nice to meet you, Amber,” he said, offering his hand.
His voice was calm and steady. I shook his hand, feeling a little self-conscious about my appearance after hours of driving.
“Nice to meet you, too.”
From then on, I couldn’t stop looking at him. He was the type of man that made everyone feel at ease, preferring to listen rather than speak. I tried to concentrate on the conversations around me, but whenever our gazes crossed, I felt a tug.
That was ridiculous. I hadn’t thought about love or relationships in ages. Not after what I’d gone through.
I had pretty much given up on finding “the one” and was more focused on work and family. But something about Steve compelled me to reconsider, even if I wasn’t ready to accept it.
As the day came to an end, I bid my goodbyes and drove away. However, when I attempted to start it, the engine sputtered and ᴅɪᴇᴅ.
“Great,” I sighed, collapsing back into my seat. I debated returning inside to seek Dad for assistance, but before I could, there was a knock at my window.
It was Steve.
“Car trouble?” he inquired, laughing as if such occurrences were commonplace.
I sighed. “Yeah, it’s not starting. I was just going to get my dad, but…”
“Don’t worry about it. Let me take a look,” he offered, already rolling up his sleeves.
I observed him working, his hands moving with experienced ease. Within a few minutes, my automobile surged to life. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I exhaled.
“There you go,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag. “Should be good now.”
I smiled, genuinely grateful. “Thanks, Steve. I guess I owe you one.”
He shrugged and shot me a glance that made my tummy flip. “How about dinner? We can call it even.”
I froze for a second. Dinner? Was he asking me out?
I felt the familiar twinge of uncertainty, the small voice in the back of my mind telling me of all the reasons I shouldn’t say yes. But something in Steve’s eyes compelled me to take the gamble.
“Yeah, dinner sounds good.”
And with that, I agreed. I never expected Steve to be the man I needed to heal my broken heart, or to hurt me so severely.
Six months later, I stood in front of the mirror in my childhood bedroom, looking at myself in a wedding gown. It was truly surreal. After everything I’d been through, I never imagined this day would come.
I was 39 years old and had given up on the whole fairy tale, but here I was—about to marry Steve.
The wedding was small, with just close relatives and a few friends, which was exactly what we wanted.
I recall standing at the altar, looking into Steve’s eyes, and feeling an overpowering sense of peace. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t question anything.
“I do,” I whispered, barely able to keep the tears from spilling over.
“I do,” Steve said back, his voice thick with emotion.
And just like that, we were married.
That night, after all the congrats and embraces, we finally had some alone time. Steve’s house, now our house, was silent, with rooms that were new to me. I slipped into the bathroom to change into something more comfortable, my heart full of joy.
But the moment I stepped back into the bedroom, I was met with a startling sight.
Steve sat on the side of the bed, back to me, and spoke gently to someone…. someone who wasn’t present!
My heart skips a beat.
“I wanted you to see this, Stace. Today was perfect… I just wish you could’ve been here.” His voice was soft, full of emotion.
I stood stopped in the doorway, trying to figure out what I was hearing.
“Steve?” My voice sounded small, unsure.
He turned slowly, guilt flashing over 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 significance of his words gradually setting in. He’d told me that he had a daughter. I knew she was ᴅᴇᴀᴅ. But I wasn’t aware of… this.
“She ᴅɪᴇᴅ in a car ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛ, 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 wasn’t sure what to say. My chest tightened, and I struggled to breathe. Steve’s anguish was palpable, a live force between us, and it made everything feel heavy.
But I didn’t feel afraid. I did not feel angry. So… sad. Sad for him, for everything he’d lost, and for having to carry it all on his own. His anguish affected me as if it were my own.
I sat next him, my hand touching his. “I get it,” I answered softly. “I do. You’re not crazy, Steve. You’re grieving.”
He took a shaky breath and looked at me with such tenderness that it almost shattered 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 anguish, love, and fear, all bundled up in one instant.
“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 drew back just enough to meet him in the eyes, my heart overflowing with a love greater than I had ever experienced. “We’ll figure it out, Steve. Together.”
As I kissed him, I knew we would. We weren’t flawless, but we were genuine, and for the first time, that seemed adequate.
But that’s the thing with love, isn’t it? It’s not about finding the perfect person with no scars; it’s about finding someone who is willing to share their wounds.