I married my childhood sweetheart in his hospital room after doctors told us he only had months left to live — but the moment we said “I do,” a nurse leaned in and whispered, “He lies to you… check under his mattress.”

hospital.”

I laughed, because if I didn’t laugh I was going to fall apart.

I had known him since we were eight.

By sixteen, our families had already started joking about a wedding.

By twenty-eight, we had mailed the invitations.

Then life kicked us in the teeth.

Two months before the ceremony, Ben collapsed at work.

Everything I had ever planned turned to continue reading …