I thought I knew who I married. I trusted him completely and blindly until he began vanishing on the first Saturday of each month. Curiosity got the best of me, so I followed him one rainy Saturday and discovered a secret I haven’t had the nerve to reveal.
AD
When Jeremy strolled into that packed bookshop café three years ago, coffee streaming from his drenched jacket after running into me, I had no idea I’d be sitting here today, wondering everything about the man I married.
He bungled with napkins and apologized profusely, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. That clumsy encounter felt like destiny then.
“I’m so sorry… let me buy you another latte,” he said.
AD
“Only if you promise not to spill this one too!” I laughed.
The early days were magical.
Jeremy would surprise me with handwritten messages slipped into my work bag, slow dance with me in our little kitchen while dinner cooked on the stove, and hug me tight during thunderstorms because he knew they made me nervous.
AD
Add a Handwritten Message Inside – Add on Item – Etsy
For illustrative purpose only
He was everything I’d hoped for: kind, gentle, and the type of man who remembered my favorite flowers and brought me chamomile tea when I couldn’t sleep.
AD
After a whirlwind year of dating, he proposed on the same corner where we first met, carrying a ring he had saved months for. Our wedding was small but wonderful, with only our closest family and friends present to witness us make a lifetime commitment to each other.
Two years of marriage passed by in a blur of shared hopes and whispered ambitions.
We’d started talking about babies, picking out names, and even intended to turn the extra room into a nursery someday soon.
I was prepared to reduce my hours at the marketing agency in order to start the family we both desired.
But Jeremy had this one peculiar habit that I’d learned to accept without question. Every first Saturday of the month, he’d disappear for several hours.
“Just running some errands, babe,” he’d say, kissing my forehead before heading out.
“Want company?”
For illustrative purpose only
“Nah, it’s boring stuff. I’ll grab groceries on the way back.”
And he would always return with market bags or delicacies from the downtown bakery, humming quietly as he unpacked everything. He would occasionally vanish on random Sunday afternoons, always with the same rationale.
“Helping my aunt Lina with her garden. You know how she gets about having too many people around.”
I’d nod and smile without pressing. After all, everyone needs their own space, right?
However, this month, Jeremy appeared more nervous coming up to his normal Saturday departure, continuously checking his watch and hardly touching his breakfast.
“Mind if I come with you today?” I asked casually, sipping my coffee. “I could finally meet your aunt properly.”
His fork clattered against his plate. “What? No, Clover. You can’t… I mean, you shouldn’t come.”
“Why not? I’ve been married to you for two years and I’ve barely spent time with your family.”
Jeremy pulled back his chair and rose abruptly. “Because she doesn’t like you. Okay? Aunt Lina believes you’re too young for me and too… strange. It’s best if you stay here.
He talked with the compassion usually reserved for bad news. His fingers located his keys and wallet, but his gaze never met mine. The lack of explanation wounded more than the truth.
“Jeremy, wait. Hey?”
