The questions became harder to ignore.

Eventually, I decided I had to speak to him.

The Day I Finally Approached Him

One Saturday, I waited until he had been sitting there for a few minutes.

Then I got out of my car.

I walked toward him slowly.

He noticed me almost immediately.

The man stood up.

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

I introduced myself.

“I’m Sarah’s husband.”

The expression on his face changed.

He looked surprised.

Then embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You’ve been coming here every Saturday,” I said.

He looked toward Sarah’s headstone.

“Yes.”

There was a long pause.

I finally asked the question that had been sitting in my mind for weeks.

“How did you know my wife?”

The man took a breath.

His eyes became wet.

Then he said something I wasn’t prepared to hear.