My husband, 42, di** unexpectedly a month ago. Yesterday, his phone chimed. It was a notification for a charge on his card. The payment was for a hotel room made just minutes earlier. I stared at the screen in disbelief. His account had been frozen. Or so I thought. I grabbed the keys and rushed out the door. My hands were shaking as I typed the hotel address into the GPS.
Halfway there, his phone rang. I froze when I heard the caller ID: “Mike – Work”. Mike was his old coworker… but the voice on the line wasn’t his. “Hey man, I got the room like you asked. You sure you want to do this today? It’s been a month she might not be ready.” My heart pounded. I stayed silent. The voice continued: “Alright. Just text me if plans change. I’m at the coffee shop next to the hotel. Hope she likes the surprise.” What was going on?! I pulled into the hotel parking lot.
Room 214. I ran inside, took the stairs. When I got to the door, I hesitated then knocked. A few seconds passed. Then the door creaked open. Standing there, with red eyes and a small nervous smile, was my husband’s younger brother, Daniel. Behind him, the room was dimly lit, filled with framed photos of my husband and me, candles… and a small velvet box on the nightstand.
He looked at me and said, “He planned this before he passed. Said if anything ever happened, I had to make sure you got one last message.” He handed me the box. Inside was a necklace. On the back, it read: “You were my always. And still are.” I broke down in tears. Somehow, he had planned everything every last moment. Even after death… he found a way to remind me I was never alone.