I'm not one of those who talk about their personal life online, but what happened recently compelled me to post about it. My life had been going absolutely great until the day Lori and I were discussing our wedding plans.

Lori said something that night that made me wonder if I was marrying the right woman.

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

Let me back up a bit.

I work as a business analyst at one of the best firms in town. I've been there for four years now, and my career is going pretty well. I love my job because it allows me to meet all kinds of people with different perspectives.

In fact, my job is the reason I met Lori in the first place.

A man at work | Source: Pexels

She joined the company around the same time I did. We were assigned to the same project, and we clicked right away.

She was smart, funny, and had this way of looking at problems that made them seem solvable. We started as colleagues, became friends, and eventually, something more.

"Brandon, can you look over these numbers before the meeting?" she'd ask, sliding a folder across my desk with that smile that always made me forget what I was doing.

"Only if you grab coffee with me afterward," I'd reply, and she'd pretend to think about it before agreeing.

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

Those coffee breaks turned into lunches, lunches into dinners, and before I knew it, we were a couple. She was easy to talk to, and she made me laugh like no one else could.

Early in our relationship, Lori told me about Logan, her late husband. They had been married for two years when he died in a car accident four years ago. I could see the pain in her eyes when she talked about him, and I respected that he had been an important part of her life.

Silhouette of a man | Source: Midjourney

"He loved hiking," she told me once over dinner. "We went to Colorado for our first anniversary, and he insisted on climbing this ridiculous mountain at sunrise."

"Was it worth it?" I asked.

"The view was breathtaking," she said, her eyes distant. "But mostly I remember how happy he looked when we reached the top."

I thought it was natural for her to talk about him. He was such a big part of her history, and sharing those memories was her way of grieving. I never felt threatened by a man who wasn't here anymore.

Or at least, that's what I told myself.

A man thinking | Source: Midjourney

Six months ago, I proposed. We were at her favorite restaurant, and I had the ring in my pocket all night, waiting for the right moment.

"Lori," I said, taking her hand across the table, "these past few years have been the happiest of my life. Will you marry me?"

Her eyes filled with tears.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, of course I will."

Everything had been going smoothly until one night last week. We were going through wedding plans at our kitchen table, reviewing the seating chart and floral arrangements.

A wedding planner notebook | Source: Midjourney

"Where do you think Logan's picture could go?" Lori asked casually, as if she were asking about placing a centerpiece.

I looked up from the guest list I was reviewing. "What do you mean?"

"Logan's picture," she repeated, a slight frown forming between her eyebrows. "For the wedding. I was thinking one of my bridesmaids could hold his picture during the ceremony."

I set down my pen. "Hold his picture during our wedding ceremony?"

A framed photo | Source: Midjourney

"Yes, and I'd like to have his picture on our table too. And when we're taking photos, I want to hold his picture in most of them."

I stared at her, waiting for her to laugh and tell me she was joking. She didn't.

"Lori," I said carefully, "are you saying you want your late husband to be part of our wedding day?"

"Of course," she replied. "He's still important to me, Brandon. I can't just pretend he never existed."

I sat back in my chair, truly stunned.

A man sitting in his chair | Source: Midjourney

Was I really supposed to share my wedding day with her late husband? The day that was meant to be about us, our future, and our love story… was I supposed to make room for a ghost?

"Don't you think that's a little... unusual?" I asked, trying to keep my voice level.

"I don't see why," she said, her tone growing defensive. "Lots of people honor passed loved ones at their weddings."

"Yes, with a candle or a mention in the program," I countered. "Not by having their picture held throughout the ceremony and featured in our wedding photos. This isn't a memorial service. It's our wedding day."

A man speaking while looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

"You're being insensitive," she shot back. "Logan was a huge part of my life!"

"And I've respected that since day one," I countered. "I've listened to every story, looked at every picture, and even visited his grave with you on his birthday. But our wedding day should be about us. About our beginning. Not your past."

We went back and forth like this for what felt like hours. Neither of us was willing to budge. Finally, I held up my hands in surrender.

A man raising his hands in surrender | Source: Midjourney

"Look, I don't want to fight about this tonight. Let me think about it, okay? This is a big decision."

She nodded, though I could tell from the set of her jaw that she wasn't happy. We went to bed that night with an uncomfortable silence between us.

For the rest of the night, I wrestled with my emotions. Was I being selfish? Was this just her way of processing grief? Or was I about to marry someone who was still in love with a ghost?

An apartment window at night | Source: Pexels

By morning, I had made my decision.

I was already at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee when Lori came downstairs. She looked tired, like she hadn't slept much.

"Morning," she said cautiously, pouring herself some coffee.

"Good morning," I replied. I waited until she sat down across from me. "Lori, I thought about it, and I'll agree to your request. But on one condition."

A man's hands on a table | Source: Pexels

"Thank you, Brandon," she said with a huge smile. "What's the condition?"

I took a deep breath. "If Logan gets to be at our wedding, then so does Beverly."

Lori frowned. "Who's Beverly?"

"My ex."

She looked at me with wide eyes.

"Your ex-girlfriend?"

I nodded. "If you get to honor the man you loved before me, then it's only fair I get to do the same. Maybe we can put her picture next to Logan's. Oh! And for the ceremony, I can have one of my groomsmen hold a photo of her too. And during our first dance, I'd love to hold her picture close to my heart."

A man talking to his fiancée | Source: Midjourney

"But... that's completely different," she stammered.

"Is it? Why?" I asked. "Because you were married to Logan and Beverly and I just dated? Or because Logan died and Beverly and I broke up? What's the difference, really?"

"It's not the same thing at all!" Lori insisted. "Logan didn't choose to leave me. He was taken from me!"

"So, this is about honoring someone who didn't want to leave you," I said calmly. "But Beverly didn't want to leave me either. We broke up because she moved across the country for her dream job. Neither of us wanted it to end."

An upset man sitting outdoors | Source: Pexels

She was silent, staring into her coffee cup as if it held the answers.

I stood up, placing my cup in the sink. "Lori, I love you. But if you're not ready to let go of Logan enough to have our wedding instead of some strange memorial... then maybe you're not ready to be my wife."

She looked up at me then, her eyes glistening with tears. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" I leaned against the counter. "Lori, you've been talking about Logan since the day we met. At first, I didn't mind. I understood he was a big part of your life. But it's been four years since he passed away, and sometimes I feel like he's still more present in your life than I am."

A man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

"That's not true," she protested weakly.

"You keep his picture by our bed. You visit his grave every month. You compare restaurant meals to ones he would have liked. You even call his parents every Sunday," I said gently. "I've never complained about any of that because I know how much you loved him. But our wedding day? That should be about us starting our life together."

A tear slipped down her cheek. "I don't want to forget him."

"No one's asking you to forget him," I said, moving to kneel beside her chair. "But you can't keep one foot in the past if you want to move forward with me. You have to let him go, at least enough to make room for us."

Silhouette of a man | Source: Midjourney

She didn't say anything, just stared at her hands in her lap.

We didn't talk much for the rest of the day. I gave her space, working late at the office and picking up takeout on my way home. But that night, I noticed something. The picture of Logan that had always been on her nightstand? It was gone.

We didn't discuss it. She never brought up having his photo at our wedding again. It was as if the conversation had never happened.

Three months later, we got married.

A couple showing their rings on their wedding day | Source: Pexels

And on our wedding day, it was just the two of us making promises to each other. No ghosts between us.

As it should be.

Later, Lori told me that my "Beverly condition" had forced her to see how unfair she was being. "I realized I was asking you to marry both me and my memories," she said. "That wasn't right."

I learned something important from all this: Sometimes loving someone means helping them see when they're stuck in the past. And sometimes, the kindest thing you can do is to hold up a mirror so they can see it for themselves.

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

Moving forward doesn't mean forgetting the people we've loved. It just means making room in our hearts for new love to grow. Lori still keeps a small photo of Logan in her desk drawer and even tells me stories about him sometimes.

Honestly, I don't mind that now because I know I'm not competing with a memory anymore.

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This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided "as is," and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.