Richard, my husband, has been the love of my life. He is kind, caring, dependable, and responsible. We were together for two wonderful years and got married when we were 26. Our trip felt like something out of a fairy tale as we carefully planned our future. We had hopes of having kids and a house that we could call our own.
Then all of a sudden he was gone. Richard was gone, like an illusion that only lasts for a moment. Like me, he had no family ties, so his quick absence shocked his friends and me. I called the cops because I was afraid that something bad had happened to him. Sadly, their probes turned up nothing. Years went by, and all we could do was wait for him to come home and knock on our door.
I couldn’t forget Richie, even though I was surrounded by other guys who were clearly interested in me. Jake, a close friend, was always there for me when I needed help. My friends pushed me to try new things. I knew he cared about me, and I did too. However, guilt always came in whenever I thought about moving on.
I didn’t care about other guys, so I focused on making a good living as an engineer. I recently went to another part of the country for work. I had meetings, went shopping, and had an early Monday morning flight. To find comfort, I went to a local church service on Sunday, which reminded me of what I used to do every week back home.
As the service ended, I was walking toward the exit when I heard a voice I knew. It made my heart drop. It seemed like I was losing it. When I turned around, there was a tall man there. I knew that back then. That laugh was familiar to me. When he turned around, his eyes got really big, like he thought he saw a ghost. The same for me. It was him. Without a doubt. I couldn’t breathe.
“Hey, are you okay?” “Are we coming?” asked the woman next to him.
He took a deep breath.
“Okay, you go.” It was nice to meet Mr. Jenkins.
“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you in the car,” she said, then left. Richard walked up to me and put a strong grip on my shoulders. He whispered, “Not here.” Come see me at Tom’s Cafe, River Street, 6 in an hour.”
He left with those vague words. In a daze, I arrived at the given café. He came an hour late and began to talk nonsensically. “I know you want to know why. “I owe you that for sure.” He then began telling his story, which made me feel worse.
He had a high school sweetheart before me. She was the love of his life. They broke up quickly after being together for seven years. Richard moved on, even though he was broken, and finally we met. Everything in our married life seemed perfect until she came back and told us she loved us and asked for forgiveness. He knew at that moment that his heart still belonged to her. What I learned hit me like a tsunami, washing away the years I had spent waiting with hope. The story was so sad that it made me angry at both him and myself.
“You know that I didn’t remarry and waited for you all these years?”
I choked on the words because I was so angry and shocked. Like the first time we met in church, his eyes rolled.
“What?” “No, you couldn’t.”
“I did.”
I thought I was going to die from the pain in my chest. Richard walked after me and kneeled next to me as I went outside to catch my breath. “I’m sorry, Anna.” But I didn’t say anything as I walked away, just like he did.
In the coming weeks, I would still forgive Richard and call Jake to finally ask him to go on a date.
But right then and there, I swore I would never live for a guy or anyone else but myself.