All those years, I thought he didn’t care when in truth, he carried his sorrow silently, trying to protect me.
Later that evening, I drove to the lake where I found a small wooden box under a tree.
Inside were letters Sam had written to our son, one for every birthday since he’d been gone.
When the sun set over the water, I finally understood: love doesn’t always look the way we expect.
Sometimes, it hides in quiet places, waiting for us to see it.
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