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I Married My Late Husband’s Best Friend – And On Our Wedding Night He Opened the Safe and Changed Everything
You’d think I would have been shocked. But I wasn’t. Somewhere deep down, I had known. Maybe for months. Maybe longer.
He looked at me then, eyes wet.
“Are you sure? Because I cannot be another loss you regret someday.”
“I’m sure,” I answered, and I realized I truly was.
We didn’t run out and announce it.
We sat with it. Talked about it. Checked ourselves over and over to make sure it wasn’t just loneliness or grief in disguise.
After six steady, honest months, we began to tell people.
My daughter cried, then hugged us both and called us idiots for taking so long.
The person I feared telling most was Peter’s mother. She had lost her only child. How could I say, “I’m marrying his best friend”?
I invited her over for coffee, my hands trembling around the mug.
“I need to talk to you about Dan,” I began.
She gave me a soft, knowing smile.
