The moment Eric sat me down, my world felt like it was falling apart. The words he spoke sent a chill through me, something I wasn’t prepared for:
“I need some space, Nella. Just a little time to think.”
Twelve years of marriage, filled with love, laughter, and shared memories, and suddenly, everything seemed uncertain. Eric had always been my rock—steady, calm, and reliable. But now, for the first time, he seemed distant, unsure.
“It’s not about us,” he reassured me, his voice gentle. “I just need to clear my head.”
But my heart was already racing. What did he mean? Was there someone else? Was this the end?
I tried to offer him comfort, tried to keep him close. “You can take the guest room or the pool house. Whatever you need, Eric. But you don’t have to leave.”
He looked at me, a faint, tired smile playing on his lips. “It’s not about us, Nella. Trust me. I just need this.”
That night, he packed a small bag and left.
For the next ten days, the pattern continued. After dinner, he’d drive off, only to return before sunrise, always looking more worn out, more fragile. His hair would be messy, dark circles under his eyes, his steps slow and heavy. Each time I asked him about it, he would say, “It’s nothing bad. Trust me.”
But I couldn’t help it. Every time he spoke those words, my heart twisted. Trust him? How could I trust him when he was acting so strange? What was he hiding?
By the fifth night, my worries turned into something more—suspicion. I needed answers, so I decided to follow him.
That evening, as he left, I quietly started my car and trailed him from a safe distance. He didn’t go far—just to the local park. I parked a few blocks away and watched, hoping to see some sign of what was going on.
Eric parked under a large tree, turned off his headlights, and sat in the car, staring at his phone. Hours passed. No one joined him. There were no secret meetings, no late-night visitors. It was just Eric, alone, curled up in the front seat, a pillow and blanket making him look even smaller than usual.
Why was he sleeping in his car alone?
I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Each night, I repeated the same routine, watching him from a distance. He never once broke the pattern. I knew he was hiding something, but what?
On the tenth night, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to confront him. I drove straight to the park, parked next to him, and knocked on his window.
Eric’s eyes widened in shock when he saw me, and he quickly unlocked the door.
“Nella?” he said, his voice strained, as though the last thing he wanted was for me to be here. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” I practically shouted, sliding into the passenger seat. “What are you doing here, Eric? Why are you sleeping in your car every night? Are you cheating on me? Just tell me the truth!”
Eric looked at me, and in that moment, I saw something in his eyes I had never seen before—grief. For the first time, he seemed completely broken.
“There’s no one else,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with pain. “I keep telling you, it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” My voice cracked, tears starting to sting my eyes. “You’re scaring me, Eric.”
He reached behind the seat and pulled out a stack of books and a small recording device. My heart skipped a beat. What was all this? Why didn’t he tell me about it?
“I didn’t want to worry you,” he said softly, his hands trembling as he spoke. “But a few weeks ago, I went to the doctor. They found something—something terrible. It’s a tumor, Nella. It’s cancer, and it’s advanced. The prognosis… isn’t good.”
The world seemed to shift beneath me. I couldn’t breathe. I clutched the dashboard, trying to steady myself, as his words crushed me.
“I didn’t tell you,” he continued, his voice shaking, “because I wanted to protect you, protect the kids. I’ve been coming out here every night to record bedtime stories for them. So they’ll have me with them, even when I’m not here.”
The pain of those words hit me like a freight train. I thought he was leaving me, but he wasn’t. He was trying to leave something behind, something that would let our children know their father loved them, even after he was gone.
Tears poured down my face as I reached for his hands. “We’re going to face this together, Eric. You’re not alone in this. We’ll fight it together.”
The months that followed were filled with hospital visits, treatments, and endless nights spent holding each other, trying to stay strong. Eric fought with everything he had, pouring all his love into our family, making every moment count. The kids got to know their father’s love, even in the darkest of times.
But cancer doesn’t give up. One quiet winter morning, it took him from us.
The house felt so empty without him, as if the very air had changed. I couldn’t imagine my life without his steady presence, without his laughter, without his love.
A few days after the funeral, I found the recorder he’d used. I scrolled through the files, finding familiar story titles, but one caught my eye: Our Story.
I pressed play, and Eric’s voice filled the room. His voice—warm, steady, and full of love.
“Once upon a time,” he began, “there was a princess. She was kind, smart, and braver than any knight in the land. But most of all, she had the biggest heart anyone had ever known.”
I could hear the smile in his voice as he continued, telling the story of a princess who met an ordinary man—someone without riches or titles, but someone who loved her with all his heart.
“So, my love,” he said, his voice faltering slightly. “If you’re listening to this, know that you were my fairytale. You turned my ordinary life into something extraordinary. And even though I can’t be with you anymore, your fairytale must go on.”
The tears streamed down my face as I listened, my heart aching but filled with love. Eric had left us the greatest gift he could—a part of him that would live on forever.
Whenever the pain of losing him feels too heavy, I listen to his recordings. His voice reminds me of the life we shared, of the love that will never fade. We will always carry him with us, in our hearts, in every story, in every laugh, in every tear.
And just like that, his fairytale continues. What do you think of the story? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
