Off The Record
My Wife Had Been Gone For Months — Then My Son Pointed At A Stranger And Said, “That’s Mom!”
Imagine seeing a loved one alive after they have been buried. During our beach trip, I was shocked to see my son’s “dead” mother. Her death was not nearly as tragic as the reality I discovered.
I never imagined that I would be grieving at such a young age, yet here I am at 34, a widower with a son who is 5 years old. My wife Stacey’s chestnut hair smelt of lavender as I said her farewell with a kiss two months ago. Then my world was devastated by a phone call that will always be a part of my memory… 💔
My phone buzzed when I was in Seattle, completing a big deal for my business. The call came from Stacey’s dad.
“There has been an accident, Abraham. Stacey is no longer there.”
“What? No, that isn’t feasible. I spoke with her just last night.”
“Son, I sincerely apologize. It took place this morning. An intoxicated motorist.”
There was a muffled roar as he finished speaking. I only remember staggering into our empty house; I don’t recall the flight home. Everything had already been planned by Stacey’s parents. I hadn’t been able to say farewell when the funeral ended.
She responded, “We didn’t want to wait,” averting my gaze. “It was better this way.”
To argue, I was too numb. I ought to have put up more of a fight. I ought to have insisted on seeing her, to bid her farewell. However, grieving causes amusing mental effects. It impairs your judgment and forces you to accept things that you would otherwise doubt.
After the burial that evening, I held Luke while he sobbed himself to sleep.
“When’s Mommy coming home?”
“No, friend, she can’t. However, she adores you.”
Can we give her a call? “Daddy, will she speak to us?”
“No, sweetheart. Mommy is now in heaven. She is no longer able to speak with us.”
I hugged him close while I silently shed tears as he buried his face in my chest. I could hardly comprehend death myself, so how could I explain it to a five-year-old?
Two months passed slowly.
I pushed myself into my work and got Luke a nanny. However, the mansion had the feel of a tomb. Her favorite mug was left unwashed beside the sink, and Stacey’s clothing were still hanging in the closet. There was a memory around every corner, and it was steadily plaguing me.
I realized we needed a change one morning when I saw Luke hardly eating, pushing his cereal around his dish.
“Hey champ, how about we go to the beach?” I asked, attempting to seem more enthusiastic.
For the first time in weeks, his eyes glowed. “Can we build sandcastles?”
“You’re right! Additionally, we might spot some dolphins.”
I had a flash of hope. Perhaps this trip was just what we needed to begin our recovery.
After checking into a hotel by the beach, we spent our days surfing and enjoying the sun. Luke’s laughter was a calming tune to my tired spirit as I watched him splash in the waves. The simple joy of being a father nearly made me forget the anguish.
I was deep in contemplation on the third day when Luke rushed in.
It was “Daddy! Daddy!” he cried. Thinking he wanted more ice cream, I grinned.
“Dad, look, Mom’s back!” he exclaimed, gesturing toward an object.
I froze and followed his eyes. A woman with her back to us stood by the shore. The same chestnut hair and height as Stacey. I could feel the pounding of my heart in my throat.
“Luke, buddy, that’s not—”
Slowly, the woman turned. And as soon as our eyes locked, my stomach fell.
“Daddy, why does Mommy look different?” I was shocked, but Luke’s naive voice broke through.
I was unable to talk. I laughed as I stared at the horror from approximately thirty yards away.
Stacey was the one.
She grasped the arm of a man beside her, her eyes widening. They scurried off, blending in with the beachgoers.
“Mommy!” I picked Luke up even though he was crying.
“We need to go, buddy.”
“But it’s Mom, Dad! Did you fail to notice her? Why didn’t she stop by to say hello?”
With my head spinning, I brought him back to our room. It isn’t possible. I had laid her to rest. Had I not? But I was aware of what I saw. It was Stacey. My spouse. Luke’s mom. I believed the woman to be deceased.
I paced the terrace that night after Luke had gone to sleep. As I phoned Stacey’s mother, my hands were shaking.
“Hello?” was her response.
“I need to know exactly what happened to Stacey.”
“We’ve been through this, Abraham.” There was silence.
“No, tell me again.”
“It was an early morning mishap. By the time we arrived at the hospital, it was too late.”
“What about the body? How come I couldn’t see her?”
“The devastation was too great. We felt it was best—”
I said, “You thought wrong,” and hung up.
I gazed out at the gloomy water as I stood there. There was a problem. I sensed it in my stomach. I was determined to find out the truth.
I took Luke and his babysitter to the resort’s kids’ club the following morning. “I’ve got a surprise for you later, champ!” I hated myself for lying when I made the vow.
I browsed the restaurants, stores, and beach for hours. Stacey and her buddy were nowhere to be seen. My frustration increased with every hour that went by. Was I losing my mind? Had it all been in my head?
I collapsed onto a bench as the sun started to set, feeling defeated. I jumped when I heard a familiar voice.
“I knew you’d look for me.”
Stacey was standing there by herself when I turned around. She had the same appearance as I recalled, but in a way it was different. More difficult. colder.
“How?” I did the best I could.
“It’s complicated, Abraham.”
“Then explain it,” I growled, my hands trembling with shock and rage as I surreptitiously recorded her chat on my phone.
“I didn’t want for you to learn this way. I am expecting a child.”
“What?”
“It’s not yours,” she said, avoiding eye contact.
Slowly, the narrative came out. An affair. a pregnancy. A complex escape strategy.
“My parents helped me,” said Stacey. “We anticipated your absence. The time was ideal.”
“Perfect? Are you aware of what you did to Luke? To me?”
She broke down in tears. “I apologize. I was unable to face you. Everyone may then go on.”
“Go ahead? I believed you to be dead! How does it feel to inform your five-year-old boy that his mother will never return home?”
“Abraham, please try to understand—”
“You know what? That you lie? A liar? That you fled with your sweetheart while you let me to mourn?”
With a frightened glance around, she muttered, “Keep your voice down,”
I was taller than her. “No. You no longer make the decisions. When you chose to pretend to be dead, you forfeited that right.”
Stacey started to reply, but a tiny voice interrupted and stopped me in my tracks.
“Mommy?”
Both of us turned. Luke gripped his nanny’s hand as he stood there, his eyes wide. My heart fell. He had heard how much?
Stacey’s expression turned pale. “Luke, honey—”
I backed away and picked him up. “Don’t you dare speak to him.”
With her eyes flitting between Stacey and myself, the nanny appeared perplexed. “I’m very sorry, sir.” When he spotted you, he fled.
“Don’t worry, Sarah. We’re heading out.”
Luke writhed in my embrace. “Please, Daddy, let me visit Mommy. Don’t abandon me, Mommy. Mom… Mommy!”
I ignored his cries of tears and carried him away. Luke asked me a lot of questions while I packed furiously in our room.
“Daddy, why are you crying? Why are we unable to visit Mommy?”
I took his little hands in mine and knee down in front of him. How would I describe this? How can you explain to a child that his mother choose to leave him?
“I need you to have courage, Luke. Your mother made a grave mistake. She misled us.”
His bottom lip quivered. “She doesn’t love us anymore?”
What was left of my heart was broken by the innocent query. Unable to contain my tears, I drew him close. “My love for you is sufficient for both of us, friend. Always. I’ll be there for you no matter what, okay?”
He nodded slightly and then fell asleep, his little head cuddled against my chest. My clothing was saturated by his tears, leaving a soggy, briny memory of our mutual sorrow.
The weeks that followed were a blur. Attorneys, custody agreements, and putting things into words that Luke, age five, could comprehend. When Stacey’s parents attempted to contact me, I cut them off. They shared equal responsibility with her.
I signed the last documents in my lawyer’s office a month later.
“Full custody and generous alimony,” she declared. “Given the circumstances, Mrs. Stacey didn’t contest anything.”
Numb, I nodded. “And the gag order?”
“In position. She faces harsh consequences if she discusses the deceit in public.”
My lawyer stroked my arm as I got up to go. To be honest, I’ve never encountered a case like this, Abraham. How are you doing?
Luke was waiting at home with my parents, the only people he could now trust, in my mind. “One day at a time!” “I said.”
I was no longer a widower in legal terms. However, the woman I married was eternally gone from my heart, leaving only a ghost of unfulfilled promises and betrayed trust.
After two months, I watched Luke play in the backyard while standing on our new balcony. We had relocated to a new city, marking a new beginning for us both. It wasn’t simple. Luke continued to ask about his mother and to have nightmares. However, we were recovering gradually.
One day, Stacey texted me, and my phone buzzed.
“Let me explain, please. Luke is sorely missed. I feel completely lost. 😔🙏🏻 My lover ended our relationship.”
Without replying, I removed it. Once burned, some bridges are irreparable. She had to live with the decision she had made.
I gave my son a strong embrace as the sun sank on another day. Whispering, “I love you, buddy,” I said.
His eyes gleamed with love and trust as he smiled up at me. “I love you too, Daddy!”
And I knew we would be alright at that very moment. There would be difficult days ahead, and it wouldn’t be simple. But the most important thing was that we had each other.
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