I Pretended To Be Asleep While My Husband Snooped Through My Things, But When He Found The Box…

In the dead of night, she pretended to sleep, her heart racing, her body motionless. Across the room, her husband rummage through her things with the precision of someone searching for something specific. And then he found it. The box hidden at the back of the closet, which he had sworn never to open again, was now in his hands.

But what he discovered inside would change not just that night, but everything they thought they knew about each other because some secrets were not meant to be uncovered and others should never have been buried. Hello my friends, I am Linda and this is Linda Love Stories. I hope you enjoy this story. The apartment was quiet that night, except for the soft hum of the fan in the corner of the bedroom.

Diane watched the shadows dance on the ceiling as she tried to control her breathing. Patrick moved stealthily around the room, believing she was in a deep sleep. Each of his steps seemed to echo in her ears. Diane knew exactly what he was looking for. The box. That afternoon had been one of those moments that shatter routine like a crystal glass falling to the floor.

At the neighborhood supermarket, between shelves of cereals and cleaning products, Diane felt her heart freeze when she spotted Janice. There was no way to escape. They were face to face in the narrow aisle. Diane, long time no see. Janice smiled, but her eyes carried that permanent sadness, the same that Diane knew all too well.

Patrick, always attentive, approached with the shopping cart. Diane felt her breath catch. “Patrick, this is Janice. She is well, an old family friend,” she said, the words coming out strange from her mouth as if she was speaking another language. “Janice maintained her smile, extending her hand to Patrick.

” “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” At that moment, Diane wished the ground would swallow her. How could she introduce the mother of Elijah, her deceased fianceé, simply as a family friend? The woman who would have been her mother-in-law, who chose floral arrangements for the wedding that never happened, reduced to a casual acquaintance.

Now, hours later, Diane remained motionless in bed, pretending to sleep while Patrick rummaged through the closet. She could hear the soft sound of clothes being pushed aside, hangers sliding until the movement stopped. He had found it. Diane met Elijah when they were just 7 years old. Their families were neighbors, and from a young age, they became inseparable.

They shared school snacks, adolescent secrets, and eventually their first awkward kiss at 15 behind her garage. We’ll be together forever, Elijah promised that summer afternoon, his brown eyes shining with a childlike certainty that Diane found adorable. As they grew, their differences became more evident, but somehow they complimented each other.

Elijah preferred movies and books, while Diane dreamed of exploring the world. He hated sports and preferred to spend hours playing his guitar, composing songs that only she had the privilege of hearing. His body wasn’t athletic, cuddly, as Diane affectionately called him, but his embraces were where she felt safest.

The marriage proposal came after 10 years together on an ordinary night on the porch of the house they intended to buy. No fancy restaurants or grand gestures, just Elijah kneeling with a simple ring and words from the heart. Diane, you have been my best friend for as long as I can remember.

Do you want to continue being but as my wife? The wedding date was set for the following spring. Everything was planned. The dress, the venue, the flowers. The life they dreamed of was just a month away. The night before the accident, Diana woke startled, her heart pounding. She dreamt that Elijah was on a dark road, alone. Don’t go to work on the bike tomorrow, she begged over the phone the next morning, her voice still trembling.

I have a bad feeling. Elijah laughed. You and your premonitions. I’ll get home early for dinner. I promise. He never kept that promise. The grief was like a heavy veil that covered Diane completely. In the first days, she refused to believe it. Maybe the doctors had made a mistake. Maybe there was a mixup of identities.

But when she saw Elijah’s body, pale and still, reality imposed itself like an impenetrable wall, she abandoned the house they had chosen together and moved back to her parents’ house. She resigned from the job she loved. The books she used to devour remained untouched on the shelves. The Diane who existed before seemed to have died with Elijah.

Daughter, you need to eat properly, her mother would say, setting down plates that went back untouched. At least try to go out a little. But how to explain that every step outside was exhausting, that every casual conversation required a superhuman effort to feain normaly. Ironically, it was Janice, Elijah’s mother, who first encouraged her.

On a rainy afternoon 6 months after the accident, she appeared at Dian’s parents house with a box in her hands. I found these photos. Thought you might want to have them, she said, her eyes red. Elijah loved you so much, Diane. He wouldn’t want this for you. That visit was the catalyst for Diane to finally accept seeking professional help.

In the first therapy session, she could barely speak between sobs. Have you tried something completely new? Dr. Martinez asked in the third session. Something that challenges you in different ways. Swimming. Diane had always wanted to learn, but Elijah had a fear of deep water since childhood, and she never insisted.

Now it seemed symbolic, diving into something unknown, learning to float when everything felt like sinking. The first time she saw Patrick was a disastrous yet funny event. Diane was in the shallowest lane of the pool, trying to coordinate strokes and breathing when she lost her balance. In her desperation, she grabbed what was closest, which happened to be the leg of a man swimming in the next lane.

“Sorry,” she exclaimed, coughing up water. “I thought I was going to drown.” The man, tall, broad-shouldered, with an easy smile, laughed. “Well, that’s an original approach. Usually, people start with,”Hello. Patrick was an instructor at the gym and an amateur swimmer. He offered to give her some tips after Dian’s scheduled lessons.

Soon those extra sessions turned into coffees after workouts, which turned into dinners and outings. He was so different from Elijah that sometimes Diane wondered if that’s what attracted her. Patrick loved the outdoors, practiced triathlon, and had an infectious energy. While Elijah preferred indoor settings and a good conversation, Patrick took her to run on the beach at dawn and climb mountains on weekends.

I never thought I’d climb a mountain,” said Diane, breathless but proud, upon reaching the top of a small peak two months into their relationship. Patrick smiled, handing her a water bottle. “There are many things you don’t know you can do.” With him, Diane discovered a version of herself she didn’t even know existed.

Someone who could be spontaneous, who didn’t plan every detail, who jumped into freezing lakes just for the experience. Friends noticed the change. Some celebrated seeing her smile again. Others showed concern. “Don’t you think you’re moving too fast?” her friend Rachel asked while they had coffee.

“It’s been less than a year since Elijah.” “I know exactly how long it’s been,” Diane interrupted more curtly than she intended, then softening her tone. “Sorry, it’s just that everyone seems to think I’m running from the pain.” But with Patrick, it’s different. He makes me want to live again. When Patrick proposed to her just 4 months after meeting, Diane didn’t hesitate.

They married in a simple seaside ceremony with a few guests. Her parents attended, visibly worried, but determined to support her. The new job Patrick helped her secure, the house they chose together, new friends. Everything seemed to indicate that Diane was finally moving on. But there were moments, usually late at night, when Patrick was asleep, that she took the box hidden at the back of the closet and revisited her past with Elijah.

And then came the encounter at the supermarket with Janice, her former mother-in-law, mother of Elijah, her late fianceé. Back to the present, Diane heard Patrick rumaging in the box. He must be looking at the photos, reading the letters, touching the small treasures she kept as relics from another life. She felt a tear escape the corner of her eye.

Minutes passed. Diane expected to hear the box being closed return to its place, but instead she felt the mattress sink as Patrick sat on the edge of the bed. “Diane,” he called softly. “I know you’re awake.” She opened her eyes slowly, meeting his Patrick was holding a photograph. Elijah and her at the high school prom, both smiling and full of hope for the future.

I’m sorry, she began, sitting up in bed. For still keeping so many things from my former fiance, it’s just before she could finish the sentence, Patrick placed the photo on the nightstand and hugged her. I’m the one who should apologize, my love. I shouldn’t have gone through your things. I should have asked you.

His voice was gentle without a note of accusation. Since we met, you’ve spoken so little about Elijah. You avoid it, thinking it might hurt me or make me jealous, but know that I don’t feel that way. Patrick leaned back slightly to look into her eyes, his hands holding hers. I understand that he was a part of your life for a long time, and I don’t want you to erase that or hide it when you miss him.

I’m your husband, and I want to be your best friend. I’m on your side and I’ll always be. Diane sobbed, letting out all the tension she didn’t even know she was holding. When I saw Janice today, I couldn’t introduce her as who she truly is. It was as if I was betraying Elijah’s memory and at the same time betraying you. Patrick shook his head.

You didn’t betray anyone. You’re just living, Diane. And that’s all anyone who loves you could wish for. That night, for the first time, Diane spoke openly about Elijah, about how he would play the guitar off key just to make her laugh, about his irrational fear of cockroaches, about how they planned to travel to Paris on their honeymoon.

Patrick listened, asked questions, laughed at the funny stories, and held her through the sad ones. There was no jealousy in his eyes, only understanding. In the weeks that followed, something changed in their relationship. A new intimacy grew based on complete honesty. Diane realized she could love Patrick intensely and still cherish the memories of Elijah.

One did not diminish the other. One Sunday morning, she made a decision. She took the box out from the back of the closet and placed it on the living room table. I want you to know this part of my story,” she said to Patrick completely. Together, they spent hours revisiting the memories stored in that box. Patrick listened attentively as she recounted the story behind each item, the torn ticket from the first cinema, the jazz festival wristband, small letters written on napkins.

When they finished, Diane held the engagement ring that Elijah had given her, a small diamond on a silver band. I think it’s time to return this to Janice,” she said, her voice firm. “She might want to keep it.” Patrick nodded, squeezing her hand in support. The next day, Diane called Janice and scheduled a coffee meeting. The conversation was difficult at first, filled with pauses and averted glances, but gradually the tension dissipated.

“Elijah would be happy for you,” Janice said, taking the ring with tearfilled eyes. He always wanted your happiness above everything else. Thank you, Diane replied, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. I think we don’t need to be strangers. You will always be a part of my life. If you enjoyed the story, please leave a comment with a rating from 1 to 5 to show how much you liked it.

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