Stolen Husband, Stolen Life, Stolen Love

ion. I stood beside Lily, my hand on her small shoulder, playing the part of the grieving widow. But my grief was not for the ma

girlfriend, Ashley Green, was there, clinging to his arm. She wore a black dress that was a little too tight, a

ed something in her ear. She giggled, a sound that was horribly loud in the quiet church. Several people turned to lo

ll reception held at the Mill

approached me with M

ice dripping with fake sy

a carefully constructed m

g a hand on her flat stomach, "

embers. Grandma Miller, who was standing nearby, gasp

her blessing!" she excla

rical adoration. "We wanted to wait to tell eve

casion, this day meant to honor my husband, to an

ng David's child, his heir, we need to sort out the finances. David told me he had

me. For my husband's mon

I didn't get angry. I let my face crumple. My l

verything he had into this house. And his last paycheck... it's all

letting out a soft sob. "I don

nd uncles who had been smiling at the baby news

aunts said sharply. "The woman just bu

bly inappropriate," ano

pposed to be the grieving, heroic husband. He couldn't be see

a furious look at Ashley. "Sarah, we can talk a

rength. "Everything David had, he gave to me and Lily. That's how he

its mark.

lled with David's belongings-his favorite worn-out sweatshirt, letters he'd written me from deployment, photos of us. I also added every pie

onto the porch. "What are

. "I can't look at these thing

rst, then the fabric of the sweatshirt. The fire grew, consuming the memories of my real h

y shrieked. "Some of t

Grandma Miller crie

commotion. He was David Miller, the stoic hero. He couldn't be seen manhandling his grieving, unstable widow. All he could do was stand there

watching silently from the doorway, walked over to Mark.

nnocent in the sudden quiet. "Why does D

rk froze, his face paling. Grandma Miller gasped.

at the man wearing my husband's face, a man now trapped by a child's innocent observation. The