Whenever I returned home crying, he’d sit beside me and say, “You can try again next week.”
We eventually built a good life.
Ben never asked me to stop trying.
My husband became the lead mechanic at his garage. I got promoted. We rented a house and adopted a dog named Cooper.
Still, every Christmas, I hoped Dad would call.
He never did.
Then, three years after our wedding, Aunt Caroline called one morning.
I hoped Dad would call.
Dad had suffered a heart attack.
He died before I reached the hospital.
At his funeral, I stood beside his casket, wondering whether he’d thought about me.
Two days later, I sat at our kitchen table, looking through old family photos.
Ben entered carrying a cardboard box I’d never seen before.
Dad had suffered a heart attack.
“What’s that?”
He placed it on the table and opened it.
Inside were 36 envelopes arranged by date.
I recognized Dad’s handwriting.
“Where did you get these?”
“What’s that?”
Ben sat down across from me.
“Your dad sent them. He’s been writing to me every month since our wedding.”
I stared at him.
“For three years?”
My husband nodded.
I picked up the oldest envelope. It was dated just a few weeks after our wedding.
“Your dad sent them.”
“Ben, why didn’t you tell me?”
He pushed the oldest envelope toward me.
“Read it first. Then you’ll understand.”
I opened it.
“Ben, I know you have every reason to dislike me. I’m writing because there’s something about your father you deserve to know.”
I froze.
“Then you’ll understand.”
“Your father?”
Ben looked down.
“Your dad and mine knew each other years ago.”
My husband was 19 when his father, Adam, died.
He’d rarely discussed him, except to mention that Adam once owned a garage that failed.
“How did Dad know him?”
He’d rarely discussed him.
“They owned that failed garage together.”
I stared at Ben.
“How long have you known?”
“Since just after our wedding.” Ben hesitated. “Remember when I visited your dad two weeks before we got married?”
I nodded.
“How long have you known?”
My husband had gone alone, hoping to settle their differences. He came home upset.
“I’d been sorting through my father’s old papers,” Ben explained. “I found a business agreement with your dad’s name.”
He took it to Dad, hoping to learn about Adam.
Instead, Dad became furious.
He came home upset.
“He accused me of knowing who you were before we started dating.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I told him that. He thought I’d deliberately pursued you because of their history.”
“What history?”
Ben pulled a notebook from the box.
“I didn’t understand until he contacted me after our wedding.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
The notebook contained dates, amounts, and handwritten notes.
One page had $42,000 written across the top.
“What’s this?”
“Money your dad owed my father.”
Ben explained that Myles and Adam had opened a repair business together decades ago.
The notebook contained dates.
Adam handled the mechanical work. Dad managed the accounts.
The garage prospered until Dad made a bad investment using partnership money without Adam’s approval.
He lost $42,000.
When Ben’s father discovered what had happened, their friendship collapsed.
He lost $42,000.
They dissolved the partnership.
Adam kept the equipment and customer list, while Dad agreed in writing to repay the missing money.
