After My Wife Died, I Found Out We’d Been Divorced for over 20 Years – What I Learned Next Shocked Me Even More

Claire’s handwriting was graceful. I traced her name with my finger, as if touching it might unlock the memory.

I blinked hard, as if my brain was trying to reset itself. There had to be some explanation, some memory I was missing.

But then again, there were a lot of things I couldn’t remember from that time.

The accident had left me in the hospital for weeks. I’d skidded off Route 5 during a sleet storm and slammed into the guardrail. Everything after that was fractured.

Claire never filled in more than I asked.

And maybe I hadn’t asked enough.

We had celebrated our 30th anniversary just last year. I gave her a necklace with a swan pendant. She gave me a fountain pen with my name engraved on it; we’d laughed over wine and toasted to another 30 years together.

“How did we make it this far?” I asked her that night, tipsy and sentimental.

Had she meant it?

I dug further into the box, my heart pounding harder now.

Beneath the divorce papers was another envelope. Inside was a birth certificate.

“Lila T. Female.

Born May 7, 1990.

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