This was our spot, this bench by the lake. For as long as I can remember, we came here. We could sit for hours and talk or hold hands in silence.
It started when we were teenagers. I would come to sit and read because it was so peaceful. He would come just to see me. It was sweet, and we took an instant liking to each other.
It didn’t take long for our friendship to grow into something more.
I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath as I remembered those late nights with his strong arms wrapped around me, holding me close to his chest. I would never feel those arms again.
My mind drifted to the day he proposed. It had rained the night before, and he was so nervous he dropped the ring in the mud. I chuckled at the memory. He cleaned it off on his white shirt and slipped it on my finger before I even said yes.
A year later we were married, right here in this spot. After all these years, I could still picture the rows of chairs, separated by a five-foot aisle, leading to an arch covered in yellow and red flowers. I had been a stunning bride.
This was the spot where I had told him he was going to be a father. The shocked look on his face quickly gave way to joy, and he had picked me up off the ground and spun me around.
Life changed a lot after that. We didn’t have much time for each other, and two years after the first child, we had a second mouth to feed. He started working more and later at nights, coming home long after I had gone to bed.
A tear slid down my cheek as I remembered standing right here, in front of this bench, the night he told me he had slept with another woman. I slapped him across the face, and for the first time, he walked away from me. He didn’t come home that night, and I often wondered if he had gone to see his mistress.
This was also the spot where he begged me to take him back, swore that he would never even look at another woman again. Despite his cheating, I still loved him and welcomed him back into our home with open arms. He never cheated again, not that I know of anyway.
We were sitting here that day I told him I had cancer. We both cried as we clung to each other. All through my treatments, he stayed by my side and brought me here as much as he could. It was here that we both got the news when I was cancer free.
This single bench sitting by a crystal clear lake was our spot, my spot. It was here where they found me the day my husband died. A part of me died with him that day. Silent tears streamed down my face. It was here that my life had changed forever.