I shook my head, trying to keep my voice steady despite the tears in my eyes. «You’ve done enough, Daniel. You’ve given us everything.» I leaned down, pressing my forehead to his. «Rest, my love.»
He managed a faint smile, his eyes filled with warmth, with love. «Thank you… for making these days the best of my life.»
And then, gently, his hand slipped from mine, and he was gone.
At his funeral, I sat quietly, surrounded by friends and family, their voices blurring around me. My hand rested on my growing belly, and I felt a tiny kick. I closed my eyes, imagining Daniel’s hand there, sharing in the moment. «Your daddy was the best man,» I whispered, my voice thick with tears. «He loved us so much, more than we’ll ever know.»
As people came and went, offering condolences, I felt the ache of his absence, sharp and painful. But in that ache, I found a strange kind of comfort, a reminder of how much he’d given me, of every precious moment we’d shared.
I knew that, even though he was gone, his love would be with us always. It would live on in our child, in every memory we’d made, in every heartbeat.
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