I thought Michael was just trying to secure my future. I had no idea that I was also trying to rewrite my past…s or what Ethan had promised him before he died.
Michael was the kind of husband that many women prayed for. We had been married for fifteen years and had three children: Lily, fourteen years old; Noah, eleven; and Sophie, seven.
He ran a successful logistics company while I was taking care of the house, the kids and some freelance jobs. Michael always made fun of me because he didn’t know anything about his business.
I was also in the habit of deciding what was best for me.
When I had problems with a difficult client, he called him personally and ended the contract.
“You hated that job,” he said.
That was not your decision.
“No,” he admitted. But you were never going to take it.
The most annoying thing was that I had wanted to quit.
That was Michael. He loved me, but he often confused protecting me with making decisions for me.
He was diagnosed with stage four cancer.
Six months later, by his bed in the hospital, he grabbed me by the wrist.
“Promise me something.
“Whatever.
Get married to Ethan.
I laughed until I saw his face.
Do you mean it?s
“Yes.
“Ethan?” Your Ethan?
“He’s not my husbandman, Claire.
Ethan was Michael’s childhood best friend and our children’s godfather.
How can you ask me that?
Because I need to know you’re gonna be okay.
I’ll be fine.
Michael looked at me with the same expression he always put when I was trying to carry something too heavy.
“That,” he whispered, “is exactly what scares me.
He died the next morning.
For months, I treated his last request as something I had said because I was dying.
Then Ethan started to show up.
He repaired the porch, helped Noah with science, attended Lily’s schoolwork, and somehow became part of our daily routine.
Every time I tried to do something difficult alone, Ethan stepped in.
“I’m fine.
“You’re going down a desk up the stairs backwards.
