They say you don’t truly know someone until you marry them. I learned this in the most unexpected way on what should have been our most romantic evening.
When Alex called his mother into our bedroom that night, a thousand terrible scenarios raced through my mind. The reality was both simpler and more profound – my new husband carried childhood trauma that still haunted him decades later.
The story of his home invasion explained so much – his protectiveness, his occasional restlessness at night, even his mother’s close involvement in our lives. What might have seemed strange before suddenly made heartbreaking sense.
Now, when Alex tenses beside me in bed, I don’t ask questions. I simply open my arms. Sometimes love looks less like passion and more like patience. Our marriage is stronger for having faced this truth together.
