My Terminally Ill Wife Asked Me to Find My First Love as Her Final Wish – When I Learned Why, My Knees Nearly Gave Out
“And all those years, she watched me believe you’d walked away because you didn’t want me.”
Anna looked down.
“I’m sorry.”
“She said nothing… and then she married me.”
“I’ve wondered for forty years whether she ever told you.”
“She didn’t.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak.
“I’m not telling you to hate her,” Anna whispered. “I’m telling you because your wife sent you here, and I think she wanted you to finally know.”
I looked at her.
“Anna, did you ever try to find our daughter?”
“Of course I thought about it.”
“But did you look?”
“I couldn’t. It was a private adoption. I didn’t know the family’s name, where they lived—anything.”
And suddenly, something clicked into place.
“My mother arranged it.”
Anna frowned.
“What?”
“If anyone kept records, she did.”
I pushed myself away from the table.
“I think I know where to look.”
I stood so quickly the chair scraped across the floor.
“Walter.”
“I’m sorry. I have to go.”
One thought followed me during the entire drive home.
Carol hadn’t asked me to forgive my mother.
She’d asked me to forgive her.
So what exactly had Carol done?
—
By dawn, I was searching my mother’s attic.
At the bottom of an old box, I found a shoebox sealed with tape.
