“Tomorrow I will marry Laura, the woman who patiently waited for me for three years. Everything is ready; both our families have carefully prepared the wedding. But deep in my heart, there is still an indelible shadow: the memory of Mariana, my first wife, who died in a car accident four years ago.”
That day remains etched in my memory like a scar.
Mariana left early for the market to prepare the meal for the anniversary of my father’s death. And then, that call shattered my life:
“Your wife was in an ac:cident… We did everything we could, but she didn’t survive.”
When I arrived, her body was lifeless, and her face still bore the sweet smile I knew so well. I felt like the world was crumbling beneath my feet.
I lived like a ghost for a year. The house we had built with so much effort became a cold and empty place. Every time I opened the closet and smelled her fabric softener, I collapsed.
My friends and family urged me to rebuild my life, but I just shook my head. I believed I no longer deserved anyone and could never love again.
Until Laura came into my life.
She was a new coworker, five years younger than me.
She wasn’t pushy or invasive. But her silent affection slowly showed me that my heart could still feel warmth. When I thought of Mariana, she would simply sit next to me and offer me a cup of tea.
When the noise from the street brought back memories of the tragedy, she would hold my hand until I calmed down. For three years, she never asked me to forget the past; she just waited with infinite patience until I was ready to open my heart again. And that’s why I decided to marry her.
But before taking that step, I felt the need to visit Mariana, clean her grave, and light incense on it. I wanted to believe that wherever she was, she would also want to see me happy. That night, it was drizzling lightly.
The cemetery was empty, only the wind through the eucalyptus trees broke the silence. I carried white flowers, a cloth, and a bunch of candles. With trembling hands, I placed the chrysanthemums on the grave and whispered:
“Mariana, tomorrow I’ll marry another woman.
I know that if you were alive, you would also want me to find someone by my side. I won’t forget you, but I need to move on… I can’t wait any longer for Laura.”
A tear fell without me realizing it. As I was cleaning the tombstone, I heard very soft footsteps behind me.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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