“What is going on, Eric?” I demanded.
“Why are you doing this? Tell me honestly, are you seeing someone?
Is that why you’re out here? Are you afraid the kids would find out?”
I spoke hurriedly, as though trying to spill all my fears at once.
Sighing heavily, Eric rubbed his face with his hands.
The weariness I saw in him ran deeper than mere fatigue—it felt like he bore an unbearable burden.
“No,” he said softly.
“It’s not like that. I keep telling you there’s no one else.”
“Then what is it?” I pressed. “You’re frightening me, Eric.
Why do you come out here every night?”
He glanced my way and reached into the back seat, pulling out a small stack of books and a recording device.
“I didn’t want you to know,” he confessed.
“I didn’t want to worry you. But I’ve been recording bedtime stories for the kids.”
I blinked in disbelief.
“Bedtime stories?
Why would that worry me?”
He hesitated, his hands betraying slight tremors. “I went to the doctor a few weeks ago.
They found something—a tumor.
The biopsy results showed it’s cancer, Nella. It’s serious. I’m on borrowed time.”
It felt like the earth had vanished beneath me, rendering me breathless.
“What?” I gasped.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to burden you with it,” he explained.
“I wanted you to remain normal around me and the kids. But I also wanted to create something for them to remember me by.”
I grasped his hand tightly, as the full weight of his secret crashed over me.
This wasn’t about infidelity.
It was about my husband preparing for a future I dreaded to consider.
“I refuse to let you go through this alone,” I asserted. “We will face this together, Eric, no matter what.”
He nodded, tears slipping down his cheeks as mine flowed freely.
The months that followed became a haze of doctor visits, treatments, and nights spent nestled close together, striving to remain hopeful.
During this time, Eric dedicated himself to the kids, playing with them and taking them for walks when he was able.
He made them pancakes for dinner and pizza for breakfast.
He let them choose their Halloween costumes months in advance.
He fought harder than I ever could imagine, yet despite everything, the disease was relentless.
He had known all along that the odds were not in his favor.
He had known it when he started recording those stories in his car, preparing for the worst while striving to give us the best of himself.
“I’ll fight for as long as I can,” he told me one night in bed. “But I’m getting… tired.”
“I know, my love,” I said, clutching his hands beneath the covers. “Whatever you do, listen to your body.
Rest when it tells you to.”
Eric passed away quietly one winter morning.
The house felt empty and still without him. Our young children were unaware of the enormity of the loss.
Yet they sat through the funeral, looking lost and dazed.
Just like me.
Days after the funeral, while surrounded by family members and visitors, I felt ready to listen to his recordings.
I went to his car and retrieved the recorder from the bag he had left it in.
Scrolling through the files, I saw the familiar titles of our children’s favorite stories.
But one title stood out to me:
Our Story.
Taking a deep breath, I pressed play. His voice was warm and steady, filling the space around me immediately.
“Once upon a time,” he began.
“There was a princess.
She was kind, intelligent, and braver than any knight in the land. But above all, she had the largest heart anyone had ever encountered.”
I smiled through tears.
“One day, she met an unremarkable man, just a guy from a village with no title, no wealth. But the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew his life would change forever.”
Tears brimmed in my eyes as I listened, his voice enveloping me like a comforting embrace.
“The princess and the man spent many joyful years together,” he continued.
“Raising a prince and a princess.
Though the man grew old and weary, he understood that his princess would endure. She would continue to rule their home… with love and strength.”
Eric’s voice faltered on his final words, and I imagined the sorrow on his face.
“So, my love,” he spoke softly, “if you are listening to this, know that you were my fairytale.
You transformed my ordinary life into something extraordinary. And even though I can’t be with you anymore, your fairytale must continue.”
It was exactly what I needed.
Now, whenever the days grow heavy, I listen to Eric’s words again.
And somehow, I find the strength to smile.
What would you have done?
If you’re interested in another story, here’s a new one for you:
With Amelia’s 30th birthday approaching, her husband Jared keeps teasing her about a major surprise, igniting her imagination.
On the day of her party, she learns that the surprise is someone she never wanted to see again…
