I am 28 and was going to marry my fiancé, Derek, 32. But on our wedding day, he ran off from me without explanation. Neither I nor his family could reach him. I was totally devastated. I haven’t heard from him since then.

Three months later, I was shocked to see his name flashing on my phone. My heart raced as I picked up the call.

“Derek?” I said, my voice shaking.

“Hey, Liz,” he replied, his voice sounding weary. “I know I have a lot to explain, but please, just hear me out.”

“Three months, Derek! No word, no explanation. You just disappeared. Do you have any idea what that did to me?” I said, trying to keep my anger in check.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and I could hear the guilt in his voice. “I know I hurt you. I didn’t mean to, but I had no choice. I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” I demanded. “We were supposed to get married, start a life together. What could be so terrifying that you had to abandon me on our wedding day?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Finally, he spoke. “Liz, I found out something that morning. Something about my past that changed everything. I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I didn’t want to drag you into it without understanding it myself.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, confusion replacing some of my anger.

Derek took a deep breath. “I found out I have a son, Liz. A son from a relationship I had years before I met you. His mother passed away, and I had no idea he existed until that day. Social services contacted me, and they told me I needed to take responsibility.”

I was stunned into silence. A son? This was the last thing I expected.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” Derek continued. “I was terrified you’d hate me, or that you wouldn’t want to deal with this sudden change. So, I ran. I needed time to figure things out.”

“And you didn’t think I deserved to know?” I said, my voice softer now, the initial anger giving way to a mixture of emotions. “You just left me to wonder and worry?”

“I know,” he admitted. “I was wrong. I should have talked to you, but I was overwhelmed. I’ve been trying to get my life together and take care of my son. I want to make things right, Liz. I want to explain everything in person, if you’ll let me.”

I took a deep breath, trying to process everything. “Where are you now?”

“I’m in town,” he said. “I can come over, or we can meet somewhere. Please, Liz, give me a chance to explain.”

I hesitated, but finally agreed. “Alright, Derek. Let’s meet. We need to talk.”

We arranged to meet at a nearby café. When I saw him walk in, he looked different—tired, but also determined. He approached my table and sat down, his eyes filled with regret.

“I’m so sorry, Liz,” he said. “I never meant to hurt you. I was just so scared and confused.”

“I understand,” I replied, though it still hurt. “But you need to know that disappearing like that was the worst thing you could have done. I thought something terrible had happened to you.”

“I know,” he said, nodding. “And I regret it every day. I want to make it up to you, if you’ll let me. I want you to meet my son. I want us to be a family, if you can forgive me.”

It was a lot to take in, but I saw the sincerity in his eyes. “This isn’t something we can fix overnight, Derek. It’s going to take time and a lot of effort.”
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“I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” he promised.

I nodded slowly. “Alright. Let’s take it one step at a time. But you need to know that I expect honesty from now on. No more secrets.”
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“Agreed,” he said, relief washing over his face. “Thank you, Liz. Thank you for giving me another chance.”

As we talked more, I began to see a path forward. It wouldn’t be easy, but if Derek was willing to put in the effort, maybe we could find our way back to each other. And perhaps, in time, I could learn to forgive him for the pain he had caused.