I Married My Father’s Friend – I Was Stunned When I Saw What He Started Doing on Our Wedding Night
Amber had given up on love, but when she runs into Steve, an old acquaintance of her father, at a barbecue, passions flare. As their brief courtship culminates in marriage, everything appears ideal. However, everything changes when Amber learns Steve has a disturbing secret on their wedding night.
As I arrived at my parents’ house, I gazed at the row of cars parked on the grass.
“What’s this all about?” Muttering to myself, I was already getting ready for whatever surprise my family was in store.
With the hopes that there wouldn’t be any chaos, I took my handbag, secured the car, and made my way toward the home.
My dad’s loud laugh hit me as soon as I opened the door, accompanied with the fragrance of grilled meat. I entered the living room and took a quick look out the rear window.
Dad was, of course, throwing an unplanned BBQ. There were people all around the garden, most of them from his auto repair shop.
“Amber!” Dad was flipping burgers wearing the same apron he’s had for years when his voice broke through my thoughts. “Join us, and take a drink, please. Just the men from work are there.”
I made an effort to smile. “It seems like everyone in the town is present,” I murmured while taking off my shoes.
The doorbell rang before I could get a sense of the typical, frantic environment. Dad threw the spatula to the ground and used his apron to wipe his hands.
He almost thought to himself, “That has to be Steve.” He reached for the doorknob and gave me a quick glance. “You haven’t met him yet, right?”
Dad threw open the door before I could even respond.
“Steve!” he said, firmly clapping the man on the back. You’re just in time, so come on in. Oh, and welcome to Amber, my daughter.”
My pulse skipped a beat as I looked up.
Steve had graying hair, warm yet deep eyes, and a ruggedly gorgeous demeanor despite being a little rough around the edges. When he smiled at me, I experienced an unfamiliar flutter in my chest that caught me off guard.
“It’s nice to meet you, Amber,” he extended his hand to say.
He spoke in a steady, calm tone. Feeling a little self-conscious about my appearance after spending hours on the road, I shook his hand.
“Nice to meet you, too.”
I couldn’t stop staring at him after that. He was the kind of guy who, more often than not, listened than he spoke, making everyone around him feel at ease. I tried to concentrate on the conversations going on around me, but I could feel this tug every time our eyes met.
It was absurd. It had been a long time since I had given love or relationships any thought. Not after what I’d experienced.
I had essentially given up on finding “the one” and was concentrating more on my family and career. Though I wasn’t ready to acknowledge it, there was something about Steve that made me want to give it another look.
I eventually bid my goodbyes as the day came to an end and made my way to my car. Naturally, the engine stuttered and died when I tried to start it.
“Excellent,” I moaned as I sagged back in my chair. Before I could walk back inside and seek Dad for assistance, there was a knock on my window.
Steve was the one.
“Car trouble?” he inquired, grinning broadly as though such incidents were commonplace.
I exhaled. Yes, it’s not going to start. I only intended to get my father, but…
“It is not a concern. He volunteered, already rolling up his sleeves, “Let me take a look.”
As I watched, his hands moved with a smooth, practiced ease. My automobile came back to life and roared within minutes. It wasn’t until I let go of my breath that I realized I was holding it.
He remarked, “There you go,” and used a rag to wipe his hands. “Should be good now.”
With sincere gratitude, I grinned. “I’m grateful, Steve. Apparently, I owe you one.”
With a shrug, he shot me a look that turned my stomach. “How about we have dinner? We can declare it balanced.”
I momentarily stopped. Supper? Was this an outing request?
I experienced that well-known twinge of uncertainty, the tiny voice in the back of my mind telling me of all the reasons why I shouldn’t accept. But I was drawn to take the risk by something in Steve’s eyes.
“Yeah, dinner sounds good.”
And with that, I consented. It never occurred to me at the time how severely Steve had injured me, or how the perfect man he was to mend my broken heart.
Six months later, I was standing in my childhood bedroom, starring at myself in a wedding dress, in front of the mirror. It really was surreal. I had never imagined that this day would come after everything I’d experienced.
At 39 years old, I had given up on the idea of a fairy tale, but here I was, getting ready to tie the knot with Steve.
We desired a small wedding with only immediate relatives and close friends.
I can still picture myself standing at the altar, staring into Steve’s eyes, and being overcome with a sense of peace. I wasn’t second-guessing anything for the first time in a very long time.
“I do,” I muttered, fighting back tears.
Steve said, “I do,” his voice brimming with passion.
And we were husband and wife in an instant.
We had a little alone time that evening following all the hugs and congrats. The peaceful rooms of Steve’s house, which is now our home, were still unknown to me. With a light and full heart, I tiptoed into the bathroom to change into something more comfortable.
However, as soon as I crept back into the bedroom, I was met with a startling sight.
Steve was conversing softly with someone while perched on the edge of the bed with his back to me. Someone who did not exist!
A beat skipped in my heart.
“Stace, I wanted you to see this. Everything about today was ideal. All I want is for you to have been present.” His voice was deep and passionate.
I tried to make sense of what I was hearing as I stood motionless in the doorway.
“Steve?” My voice sounded tentative and little.
He slowly looked back, a look of shame flashing across his features.
“Amber, I—”
I moved in closer, the silence between us heavy with unsaid thoughts. “Who… who were you talking to?”
His shoulders sagged as he inhaled deeply. “I spoke with Stacy. My female child.”
I looked at him, taking in his words one by one. He’d revealed to me that he was a father. I was aware of her passing. However, I was unaware of this.
He said in a strained voice, “She died in a car accident, with her mom.” “But occasionally, I speak with her. Though it may sound absurd, I just… She seems to be here with me still. particularly now. I want for her to be aware of you. I wanted her to witness my happiness.”
I was at a loss for words. I felt like I had a constricted chest and was having trouble breathing. Between us, Steve’s anguish was raw and alive, and it made everything feel heavy.
However, I didn’t feel afraid. I was not enraged. Simply said, really depressing. I felt bad for him because of everything he had lost and how he had been handling it all by himself. I felt his sadness as if it were my own.
I took a seat next to him and placed my hand on his. “I understand,” I whispered. “Yes, I do. Steve, you’re not insane. You’re in mourning.”
He breathed out a little shakily and looked at me so vulnerable it almost broke my heart. “I apologize. I ought to have informed you earlier. I simply didn’t want to frighten you off.”
“You are not frightening me away,” I murmured, holding his hand tightly. Everybody has things that trouble them. Now, though, we’re in this together. Together, we can handle this.”
Steve started to cry, and as I gave him a hug, I could feel all of his emotions—pain, love, and fear—combined into that one instant.
“Perhaps… Perhaps we can discuss it with someone. Perhaps a therapist. You and Stacy don’t have to be the only ones anymore.”
His hand tightened over my shoulder as he nodded. “I gave it some thinking. I simply had no idea where to begin. Amber, I appreciate your understanding. I had no idea how much I would require this.”
I slightly retreated to meet his eyes, feeling a love greater than anything I had ever experienced in my heart. “Steve, we’ll work things out. Together.”
I knew we would as I planted a kiss on him. For once, it felt sufficient that we were genuine even though we weren’t flawless.
But isn’t that the nature of love? Finding someone with whom you are willing to share your scars is more important than looking for the ideal individual who is scar-free.
