They lived in a house at the edge of town. When they married fifteen years earlier, he’d told her all about the amazing home he was building. She’d fallen in love with the dream and together they worked.
Everyone smiled when they thought of the couple. He looked at her with such love. She looked at him with such adoration. That’s why they can’t believe it happened.
She was busily fixing up the house. They were mostly finished but there were a few projects that she wanted to complete. She knew her husband loved that house so she worked steadily. Every day she got up and began, often working until late in the night.
“It’s not for me,” she would say when people asked, “it’s for my husband. He loves this place.”
She was pressure-washing the porch the day he first said something. “I think it’s about time to move to a new house.” She was so intent on her task, she didn’t hear him.
He told her again the next day. Then again the next. Every day for weeks. Then it changed to, “Sweetheart, I’m moving in a week. To a new house, remember?” She always smiled at him but something was usually running loudly and she never thought to turn it off and really listen.
“Are you getting ready for the move?” He’d ask her at night when they lay in bed but she was so exhausted that she would be sleeping fast before he even finished his sentence.
The day came that he moved across town to a new house. She was so busy, she didn’t notice.
Oh, maybe the bed was a bit colder at night but she was so tired that she couldn’t figure out why. The work got harder and harder, with her being alone, but she didn’t stop long enough to look around and realize he was gone.
She had no idea that her husband was pacing the new house, longing for her to come.
He would stop by to visit. She would rush to him and tell him all the wonderful things she was doing for him. She never stopped talking so she never heard his plea, “Come with me…”
She had no idea that months had passed since they parted ways. She thought they were still together and his heart was broken because she didn’t even realize he was gone.
In some stories she figures it out.
She leaves the home that he is no longer in and rushes to find him. He rejoices as he sees her walking up to the new house. He runs to her and whispers words of love into her hair. They work together for the rest of their lives, going from place to place, building truth and light into dark places.
In other stories she is still working at the house he is no longer at.
She is tiring herself out on something he is no longer involved in. And he is still pacing the new house, longing desperately for his bride.
Which is your story?