Off The Record
I Married My Father’s Friend — But What He Did On Our Wedding Night Left Me Shattered
Amber had given up on love, but when she runs into Steve, an old friend of her father’s, at a barbecue, sparks ignite. Everything appears to be ideal as their brief courtship blossoms into marriage. However, everything changes when Amber learns Steve has a disturbing secret on their wedding night.
As I arrived at my parents’ house, I gazed at the row of cars parked on the other side of the yard.
“What’s this all about?” I muttered, mentally preparing for whatever surprise my family might be in store.
I hoped it wasn’t too crazy as I grabbed my purse, secured the car, and made my way to the house.
The fragrance of cooked meat reached me as soon as I entered the door, and I could hear my dad laughing loudly. I entered the living room and took a quick look out the rear window.
Dad was having a spontaneous barbecue, of course. The majority of the folks from his auto repair shop occupied the entire backyard.
“Amber!” As he flipped a burger wearing the same apron he’s had for years, Dad’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Come on over and get a drink. Only the guys from work are there.”
I refrained from moaning. As I took off my shoes, I muttered, “Looks like the whole town’s here,”
The doorbell rang before I could enter the familiar, tumultuous scene. Dad wiped his hands on his apron and threw down the spatula.
“That must be Steve,” he murmured, nearly out loud. He reached for the doorknob and gave me a quick glance. “You haven’t met him yet, right?”
Dad had thrown the door wide before I could respond.
“Steve!” he said, firmly clapping the man on the back. “You’re just in time, so hurry up. Oh, and meet Amber, my daughter.”
My heart skipped a beat as I looked up.
Steve had graying hair and eyes that somehow managed to be both warm and profound. He was tall and a little rough around the edges in a ruggedly gorgeous way. I wasn’t expecting this weird flutter in my chest as he smiled at me.
“Nice to meet you, Amber,” he remarked, extending his offered hand.
He spoke steadily and calmly. Feeling a little self-conscious about my appearance after hours of driving, I shook his hand.
“Nice to meet you, too.”
I couldn’t stop staring at him after that. He was the type of man who always listened more than he spoke, making everyone around him feel at ease. I made an effort to concentrate on the discussions going on around me, but I couldn’t help but feel drawn in whenever our gazes locked.
It was absurd. It had been a long time since I had ever considered relationships or love. Not after all that I had endured.
I had essentially given up on finding “the one” and was concentrating more on my family and career. Though I wasn’t prepared to acknowledge it, there was something about Steve that made me want to think twice.
I eventually said my goodbyes and made my way to my car as the day came to an end. Naturally, the engine stuttered and died when I attempted to start it.
I moaned and sagged back in my chair. “Great,” I said. I thought about returning inside to call Dad for assistance, but before I could do so, my window was knocked on.
Steve was the one.
He smiled as though this kind of event happened every day and said, “Car trouble?”
I let out a sigh. “Yes, it’s not getting started. My intention was to simply pick up my dad, however…”
“Don’t stress over it.” He rolled up his sleeves and said, “Let me have a look.”
His hands moved with a practiced ease as I watched him work. My automobile came roaring back to life in a matter of minutes. It wasn’t until I let out a breath that I realized I was holding my breath.
“There you go,” he remarked, using a rag to wipe his hands. “Should be good now.”
I grinned, very appreciative. “I’m grateful, Steve. I suppose I should give you one.”
I felt sick to my stomach as he looked at me and shrugged. “What about supper? We can refer to it as even.”
For a moment, I froze. Supper? Was I being asked out by him?
The little voice in the back of my mind reminded me of all the reasons I shouldn’t say yes, and I felt that familiar spark of hesitation. But I decided to take the chance because of something in Steve’s eyes.
“Yeah, dinner sounds good.”
Suddenly, I nodded in agreement. I had no idea at the time how much Steve had damaged me or that he was the man I needed to mend my broken heart.
Six months later, I found myself standing in front of my childhood bedroom mirror, gazing at my wedding gown. To be honest, it was unbelievable. I didn’t think this day would ever arrive after everything I had experienced.
I had given up on the whole fairy tale by the time I was 39, but here I was, getting married to Steve.
We wanted the wedding to be small, with only a few friends and close family.
I recall having a profound sense of peace as I stood at the altar and gazed into Steve’s eyes. I wasn’t doubting anything for the first time in a long time.
“I do,” I said in a murmur, my eyes threatening to well up.
Steve said, “I do,” in a passionate voice.
We became husband and wife in an instant.
We finally had some alone time that evening after all the hugs and congrats. The rooms of Steve’s house, which is now our home, were still unknown to me, and it was silent. With a light and full heart, I sneaked into the bathroom to change into something more comfortable.
However, I was met with a startling scene as soon as I sneaked back into the bedroom.
Steve was chatting quietly to someone while seated on the edge of the bed with his back to me. A person who wasn’t present!
A beat skipped in my chest.
“Stace, I wanted you to see this. Today was ideal. I only wish you were present. He spoke softly and passionately.”
I tried to understand what I was hearing while standing motionless in the doorway.
“Steve?” My voice sounded uncertain and little.
His face flickered with shame as he slowly turned around.
“Amber, I—”
The air between us was heavy with unsaid words as I took a step closer. “Who… who were you talking to?”
His shoulders slumped as he inhaled deeply. “I spoke with Stacy. My daughter.”
I gazed at him as the significance of what he had said gradually became apparent. He had informed me that he had a daughter. I was aware of her passing. However, I was unaware of this.
He went on in a strained voice, “She died in a car accident, with her mom,” However, I do speak with her occasionally. It may sound ridiculous, but I simply She seems to still be here with me. particularly today. I wished to inform her about you. I wanted to show her how content I am.
I was at a loss for words. I had trouble breathing and my chest felt constricted. Everything seemed heavy because Steve’s anguish was real, alive, and between us.
I wasn’t afraid, though. I didn’t become upset. Simply said, really depressing. I felt sorry for him because of everything he had lost and the way he had been dealing with it all by himself. I felt his sorrow as if it were my own.
I took a seat next to him and clasped his hand. “I get it,” I muttered. “I do. Steve, you’re not insane. You’re in mourning.”
As he looked at me with such vulnerability that it almost shattered my heart, he shook his breath. “I apologize. I ought to have informed you earlier. I simply didn’t want to frighten you off.”
I squeezed his hand and replied, “You’re not scaring me away,” “Everyone has haunting memories. However, we are now in this together. Together, we can overcome this.”
I felt the weight of Steve’s suffering, love, and fear all bundled up in that one moment as his eyes filled with tears and I pulled him into an embrace.
“Perhaps… Perhaps we can discuss it with someone. Perhaps a therapist. You and Stacy don’t have to be the only ones anymore.”
He tightened his hold on me as he nodded into my shoulder. “I’ve considered it. I simply didn’t know where to begin. Amber, I appreciate your understanding. I was unaware of the extent of my need for this.”
My heart grew with a love I had never experienced before as I drew back just enough to meet his eyes. “Steve, we’ll work it out. Together.”
And I knew we would as I gave him a kiss. For the first time, it felt sufficient that we were real, even though we weren’t flawless.
That’s the problem with love, though, isn’t it? Finding someone whose scars you’re willing to share is more important than finding the ideal person who is scar-free.
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