That didn’t happen.
Yet here we are, two children and a broken promise later, standing before each other, just the way we stood that day at the altar, with equal parts love and hope. And once again, I close my eyes, ready to take a leap of faith, ready for the long, hard road ahead. I have no idea how it’s going to turn out, but then again, I never really did.
“Can I make you breakfast?” he says. “Eggs, sunny side up?”
I look into his eyes, nod, and nearly smile. Not because I’m happy—or hungry. But because my husband is home. Because he knows that sunny-side-up eggs are my favorite. And because I believe that, buried beneath disappointment and fear, anger and pride, I just might find it in my heart to forgive.