When Alexis’ parents forced her to marry Robert, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. Later, Alexis broke the one rule her husband gave her and entered the room he warned her about, unleashing secrets she wasn’t prepared for.
I couldn’t understand why my parents wanted me to get married before I found someone myself.
“Alexis,” my mother said, “Robert is a catch. He’s a wealthy man who will take care of you. You wouldn’t even have to work.”
I couldn’t refuse. My father had made it clear.
“You marry Robert, Alexis,” he said, puffing on his cigar. “Or you can figure out your own living arrangements.”
In a sense, Robert was my prince charming. Our family had a bakery, which was losing customers because we had no gluten-free options on the menu.
“We will continue to bake what we know,” my father insisted.
Our marriage was definitely an arranged one. Robert’s demeanor was cold, and he refused to let me get to know him properly. I don’t know how my father arranged our connection.
Our wedding was a spectacle of Robert’s affluence, nothing short of extravagant. Robert’s wedding planner had thought of everything.
My wedding dress was a custom piece that he commissioned for me. But even through our wedding planning, we barely spoke.
“I’m looking forward to being married,” he admitted one evening, a few days before the wedding.
“But I don’t know what I’m doing,” he added.
That was the closest Robert had gotten to letting me in.
Two days after our wedding, I moved into our new home.
“Come, I’ll show you around,” Robert said.
He took me around our home, a mansion boasting luxuries I’d never imagined before: sprawling golf courses, a shimmering swimming pool, and a fleet of staff at our beck and call.
“It’s beautiful,” I said when we got to the kitchen. “Everything is beautiful.”
“Now, Alexis, this house belongs to you too,” he declared with a hint of pride.
I smiled at the stranger standing in front of me. Maybe we were going to make something of our marriage.
“But one thing, Alexis,” he said. “There’s one rule. The attic. Never go in there.”
I nodded at Robert. I couldn’t fathom why I wouldn’t be allowed anywhere in the house. But I also recognized that I didn’t know my husband well enough yet. So, I had to obey.
A few days later, Robert went to a meeting, leaving me alone in our massive home.
Driven by curiosity stronger than any warning, I found myself ascending the stairs to the attic. My heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time.
A quick in and out, I thought to myself.
Pushing the door open, I was met with a sight that sent me to my knees, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t know why I was crying. I didn’t know why I felt confusion and relief at the same time.
The attic, dimly lit, seemed to be a vault of my husband’s hidden memories. Childhood toys lay scattered, each carrying untold stories. Old postcards and photographs of Robert’s life before me. Among the relics were letters from a young boy to his father, a soldier away at war.
“How dare you come in here? Now, I have to change the locks in my own home because my wife does not respect my requests?”
Robert’s face turned red with rage.
“I just want to understand,” I stammered. “I just want to know you, Robert.”
Slowly, his rage dissolved, and he seemed to see me as a companion in his world, instead of the intruder he had made me out to be.
“Alexis,” he said, “Come, let’s sit.”
Robert led me to the living room.
“My father was a stern man. He was a soldier and he believed in keeping emotions locked away. These are the only things I have of a time when I felt loved,” he confessed.
My heart caught on his every word as his voice broke.
What followed was a revelation of his soul. Stories of a lonely childhood, of a boy yearning for his father’s approval, unfolded in our home.
In those vulnerable moments, I didn’t see the distant, cold man I had married but a boy who had never stopped seeking love and acceptance. He just didn’t know how to go about it.
In those few hours, things changed. Robert started letting me in. And now, years later, our home is filled with the cries and laughter of our daughter, April.
Through our daughter, Robert healed. He healed for himself, and for our daughter.
We’ve packed away everything from the attic, so it is no longer a shrine to Robert’s past but is now my little reading nook.
3 Years after Son’s Death, Lady Opens Door on Halloween & Sees Kids in Costumes She Sewed for Him – Story of the Day
A bereaved mother is startled when kids arrive on her doorstep trick-or-treating in her dead son’s Halloween costumes. She immediately checks his room and is in for a tear-jerking surprise.
“Please give it a thought, Mrs. Brown. You cannot always escape this time of the year. You have to overcome it, and this is the only way out. You need to celebrate Halloween or at least decorate your house,” the psychologist told Rosemary, 37.
Rosemary’s eyes brimmed with tears as she pressed her chin on her knuckles. She was nervous. “Will I be able to do it? Will it help me not think about what happened to my son on that Halloween?” she thought.
Rosemary shyly smiled and got up to leave the clinic. She headed to the market to buy décor. Though she did not feel like celebrating the holiday, she followed the doctor’s advice.
It had been three years since Rosemary and her son Dave carved fleshy pumpkins into glowering jack-o’-lanterns. It had been three hellish years since Rosemary lost Dave on the morning of Halloween, and his death still kept haunting her…
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Lucas, Rosemary’s husband, was surprised when he came home on All Hallows Eve. He had been out of town on a business trip and was astonished when he saw his house fully decorated with the Halloween spirit.
“Rose, hey…hey…” he exclaimed as he entered the door, holding big boxes of stuff he’d shopped from the city. “I’m so happy you’re doing this. I’m sure our son would be happy to see you smiling after a very long time.”
Lucas kissed Rosemary before leaving to freshen up. Tears rolled down Rosemary’s face as she fixed the light into the jack-o’-lantern. It was Dave’s favorite part of the festival. He always placed bets with his friends about who had the funkiest jack-o’-lantern.
Rosemary’s house that day looked so beautiful and all set for a perfect Halloween. It caught everyone’s eye, especially one gang of kids on the street.
Those we love do not truly leave us. There are certain things death can never touch.
They couldn’t help but think Rosemary’s decorated house was a signal inviting them over for a trick-or-treat. They had never visited Rosemary’s house on Halloween before, so seeing her house ready for the holiday tempted them.
The kids marched to Rosemary’s house in costumes that would go on to make the bereaving mother burst into tears.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Just as Rosemary readied the table for dinner and was wiping the crockery, she heard a loud knock on the door. She answered the door and turned pale with shock seeing a group of happy little children chiming, “Trick or treat!”
Rosemary could not believe her eyes. She recognized the costumes the kids were wearing. She had exclusively sewn them for Dave three years ago for Halloween, but he never got to wear them. He died in an accident while crossing the road the morning of All Hallows Eve.
Rosemary was shaken. She clasped the door and gaped at the children from head to toe.
“That embroidery… those buttons and skeleton paintings on the shirt… Dave asked me to do a patchwork resembling cobwebs on his witch hat… And these pumpkin buttons… ‘D’ for Dave… I sewed them myself. What is going on? How did they get my son’s Halloween costumes from his room?” Rosemary thought.
“It cannot be.”
Rosemary quickly gave the kids some candies and ran to her son’s room. She pulled out a trunk from under the bed and opened it. Dave’s Halloween costumes were not there.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Rosemary was startled. She started sweating and sat on the floor, crying. “Who took them? Who gave my Dave’s clothes to those kids?”
She looked up and saw the state of her late son’s room. It looked different and empty. Almost all his items were missing, including his favorite shoe collection, posters, and even superhero toys. Rosemary peeped into his wardrobe and only found empty hangers.
Everything was intact when she checked Dave’s room a month ago. She never gave away a thing there because she wanted to preserve everything in memory of her dead son. So seeing Dave’s room in a near-empty state puzzled her. Rosemary could not understand what was going on and immediately called Lucas.
“Everything is missing. I see nothing here that belonged to our son. Darling, what’s going on? Who took Dave’s things from here?”
That’s when Rosemary sensed a weird hesitation on Lucas’ face. He could not look her in the eye and simply walked away.
“Lucas, what’s going on? Why aren’t you saying anything? Where are my son’s things? And why are those kids wearing his Halloween costumes?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Rosemary followed Lucas to the kitchen where she found him staring at the plain wall.
“Darling, what’s going on? Why are you silent? I’m going crazy. Can someone please tell me what’s happening in this house?”
Lucas turned around, tears streaming down his face. He hugged Rosemary and made a confession.
“Sweetie, I know how much Dave means to us even now. But I could not see you destroyed like this,” he began.
“Once, I visited the shelter at the end of this street with my friend. The little boys there reminded me of our son. So I gave away all his stuff to them. Whenever I see those kids in our son’s shirt, pants, or even shoes, I see Dave, not some strange random kid.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Rosemary burst into tears. “So, were those kids who came trick or treating to our house from the shelter?”
“Yes, they are! On my way home this evening, I saw them wearing the costumes you’d made for Dave. I was so happy and invited them to our home for some candies, hoping you would be happy to see them.”
Rosemary threw herself into Lucas’s arms and began to cry.
“Thank you so much, darling. You have no idea what you did today!”
“I did?” Lucas was puzzled, seeing a strange glow in his wife’s eyes.
“Yes! One of those little boys looked just like our son Dave. I think this is what destiny wanted us to do…to adopt him and bring him home as our son!”
Lucas and Rosemary were so delighted, they quickly began the paperwork to adopt Tom, the little boy who reminded Rosemary of the late Dave. They brought him home six months later.
Ever since Tom arrived, Rosemary was never sad again. She, Lucas, and Tom lived a life of dreams and happiness together. They also helped the other children in the shelter find loving homes.
A year later…again on Halloween…
“Mama, look…my jack-o’-lantern…you like it?” Tom asked Rosemary, showing a gorgeous jack-o’-lantern he’d made. Rosemary shed tears of joy as she realized Tom was none but a gift her late son Dave had sent from heaven.
“It’s beautiful, darling! It reminds me of someone dear to me!” she cried and hugged the boy as they got ready for the evening.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
What can we learn from this story?
- Those we love do not truly leave us. There are certain things death can never touch. After losing her son Dave, Rosemary was devastated. She had never celebrated Halloween for three years since the day marked her beloved son’s death. However, she would later learn that her son wasn’t truly gone when she meets a young boy who resembles Dave and becomes part of their family.
- Embrace your grief and move on. No sorrow is permanent unless you choose to stick to it. It took Rosemary three years to embrace her grief and move on from her son’s loss. Although she was never entirely out of it, she sought solace in her adopted son Tom.
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