I closed my eyes.
Because there was something none of my children knew.
For twelve years, I had been keeping a secret connected to my late husband.
And that secret had begun just three days before he died.
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Three days before Robert passed away, he gave me a small wooden box.
“Margaret, promise me you won’t open this until the day you feel that something impossible is happening in your life.”
At the time, I thought my husband was delirious from his illness.
But I kept the box in our bedroom closet.
For twelve years, I never opened it.
Then, six months ago, when my belly first began growing, I remembered his words.
That night, I took out the box.
Inside was a letter and an old photograph.
In the photograph, Robert was standing beside a man I had never seen before.