I gave money to a poor woman with a baby – The next morning, I was shocked to see that she was doing something on my husband's grave

"He never told me about you. If I had known . . ." she broke down. "Look, I was so angry with him for having left us. He told me that he had professional commitments to meet, and that once he had obtained his promotion, he would return to me. And when I learned that I was pregnant, I was fired at work. I had to rely on my savings. I wanted James to help me. Even in death. I thought taking the flowers and selling them would be... it sounds terrible, but I felt like he owed it to us. I'm sorry. ”

For a while, we stayed there, looking at each other.

I saw the despair in her eyes, the raw truth she carried in her trembling hands. And what about the baby?

James's baby. The same baby looking at me with big innocent eyes.

Eventually, I spoke.

"Keep your flowers," I said, the bitter words on my tongue. "Take care of him. ”

His face wrinkled again, but I turned the heels and walked away before seeing his tears.

That night, I couldn't sleep. Hundreds of questions were jostling in my mind. Unanswered questions. James was gone. There would be no confrontation, no explanation, no resolution.

Just the ghost of him, now burst into pieces that I didn't recognize.

At the end of the third night of insomnia, something changed in me. And the air around me was different.

Anger has kind of appeased, leaving only a strange sorrow for the baby. He was only an innocent little boy caught in the storm that his parents had created.

The next morning, I went back to the cemetery, hoping to see her again. I didn't know why... maybe I needed proof. Or maybe I just wanted to turn the page.