I buried my husband Ron in a closed casket five years after our wedding. I was eight months pregnant during his severe accident and nobody allowed me to see his face. Within forty eight hours of his funeral I lost our unborn baby. All our future plans disappeared immediately. I survived this grief by moving away and refusing to look backward. Three years later I lived alone in a third floor apartment in a new city. I worked at a dental office scheduling cleanings and returning to a silent home. I chose this apartment because it held no memories.
On a Sunday afternoon I heard scraping noises coming from the stairwell outside. I looked out my window and watched a young family moving furniture into the building. A dark haired woman named Carla directed the movers. A little girl clutched a pink stuffed rabbit while a man maneuvered a heavy couch through the doorway. When the man glanced up toward my window my body went cold with shock. He had the exact same signature haircut and facial features as my late husband Ron. I stepped away from the window in disbelief and dropped a glass onto my floor.
I stepped into the hallway as the man reached the top step carrying the toddler. He stopped in front of the apartment next to mine and pulled out his keys. I approached him and asked if he knew anyone named Ron because his resemblance to my husband was unsettling. He denied knowing anyone by that name and told the little girl to go inside. He called the child Katie which shocked me because that is my own name. I stepped closer and noticed his right hand was missing two fingers. Ron lost those exact fingers as a ten year old boy during a fireworks accident.
Overwhelmed by panic I confronted him directly and asked if he was my husband. Carla walked upstairs at that moment and asked if we were having a problem. Ron dismissed me as a confused stranger and told his new wife to take little Katie inside. I raised my voice and stated that I married Ron five years ago and buried him three years ago. This commotion caused our neighbor Mrs Denning to peek out from her door. Carla demanded to know my true identity while Ron looked terrified by the exposure of his lie. I demanded the absolute truth as Ron reluctantly followed me into my kitchen to explain his secret life.