And he murmured:
“I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”
My heart raced.
“Tell me what?”
He took a deep breath, like someone preparing to reopen an old wound.
“I can’t… give you the life you imagine. I can’t offer you a traditional honeymoon.” Not today. Maybe never.
A chill ran down my spine.
“Steve, what are you trying to say?”
He lowered his eyes again, as if reliving a pain he’d carried alone for far too long.
“Three years ago… I was in an accident. Bad. Very bad.
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