A Wedding Night That Felt Wrong
When I returned to the bedroom, the air felt different.
Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped, his hands shaking slightly. He did not look up when I entered.
Nothing about the scene matched the night I had imagined.
There was no smile. No warmth. No anticipation.
“Steve?” I asked, my voice cautious.
He lifted his head slowly. His face was pale, his eyes filled with something that looked like fear.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I should have told you sooner.”
My heart began to race.
“Told me what?”
He inhaled deeply, as if bracing himself.
“I can’t give you the life you might be expecting,” he said. “Not a traditional honeymoon. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.”
The room felt suddenly cold.
“Steve,” I said carefully, “what are you trying to tell me?”
He looked down at his hands, avoiding my eyes.
“Three years ago, I was in a serious accident,” he began. “I spent months in the hospital. When I finally woke up, the doctors told me that some things would never be the same.”
It took a moment for his words to settle.
“You mean…?” I asked quietly.
He nodded, his face tightening with embarrassment and grief.
“I can’t,” he said. “Not in the way people expect. I hoped it would improve with time. I hoped I could fix it before the wedding. I wanted to be the man you deserve. But I can’t pretend anymore.”
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