After I died, he asked his son to call someone else his mother

I spent forty years with David “Dave” Rivers, and we never got a marriage license.

He always said it was just a piece of paper, that love didn't need it to be real.

But after I died, Dave immediately married his widowed high school sweetheart.

At the wedding, Dave’s wrinkles seemed to smooth out as he announced, “Back in the day, I promised myself I’d only ever marry her.”

1

The last three years of my life were spent bedridden.

Dave was my sole caregiver, never faltering.

He’d wheel me out into the sun every day.

When I knew my time was near, I held his hand and whispered, "Dave, just... live well.”

Two tears slid down his weathered face.

As my consciousness faded, I heard him say, “Thanks, Sarah. Thanks for being with me all these years.”

I’d always thought death meant immediate oblivion.

Instead, my spirit floated up, watching as Dave wiped his eyes and called a nurse to confirm my passing.

Then, he took charge of the arrangements, calling our son, who lived overseas, to come home.

My funeral was huge, Dave’s eyes were red and puffy. The media called him a grieving, devoted millionaire.

My heart ached a little. We’d shared so many years together. Apart from that damn piece of paper, he’d been faultless.

When it was all over, I saw him pick up his phone three times, then put it down.

Curious, I watched as he finally committed and made the call.

“Hey, it’s me, Linda.”

2

Linda Miller was Dave’s first love.

He introduced her to me once like she was any other friend. They acted like they’d never been an item.

Linda and I actually got along well. When her husband passed a few years back, I often went to visit since she had no kids.

But now, I heard Dave say to her, “Linda, we’ve lost so much time. I want to finally honor that promise I made when I was twenty.”

Death really sharpened my hearing.

I clearly heard Linda sigh on the other end of the phone, saying, “Dave, we’re old timers now, don't go stirring things up.”

Dave laughed like a teenager. “If you think it’s too soon, we can wait a month.”

I'd never heard Dave mention a promise from his twenties, but my heart was pounding with unease. It felt like a whole life was about to be exposed as a lie.

I waited, watched Dave get into a tailored suit, carefully comb his hair before heading out.

Just as I'd suspected, he was going to see Linda.

Linda had put on some bright lipstick and looked like a woman in bloom. She’d even dressed up in a dark red dress.

They were heading to get a marriage license.

Soon, Dave had planned a wedding.

The internet exploded with mixed reactions.

“He never married Sarah but immediately married someone else after she died. Scumbag!”

“It’s his first love, and it wasn’t an affair, I don’t see the problem.”

“Hopeless romantics, falling all over yourselves!"

None of this seemed to bother Dave.

On his wedding day, our son, sitting down front, looked completely detached.

Dave went to him, looking a bit stiff, like he was afraid his son would...