I’ll never forget the moment she dropped me off at work that day in February, 2020. At the time, it was utterly ordinary. It was just another day and just another early morning drop off in front of my office building. We had moved to the great state of Texas a handful of months earlier and we had been operating with just the one car. She didn’t need one as she was working from home; operating the bookstore she owned back home in New York. I knew it was difficult for her and I hated that, but when I had been offered this job, well… the money and career opportunities it presented were too good to pass up. She agreed to come, although I knew it was hurting her to do so.

Maybe that was the catalyst, I would later think. Maybe she really hated it there and hated me for bringing her there. Maybe taking away everything she knew and uprooting her entire life was just a step too far. It wasn’t, I would eventually learn. In the moments after, though… it was hard. But I’m getting off topic.

We arrived at the office and I leaned across the center console to kiss my soon-to-be wife as I always did. She held it, though, just a little longer than normal. Barely long enough to notice, but in a way that seemed to say that she just wanted to linger for a moment longer… to remember it as though she would never experience it again.

“I love you,” she’d said, that soft and quiet voice of hers making my heart melt. I didn’t notice the way she said it, either. Not at the time. I didn’t pick up on her tone. I should have, but I didn’t. I never saw any of it. She didn’t want me to, but she’s the love of my life. How could I not have known? How could she be dying right in front of me and I never even noticed?

I must have said I love you back. I really must have done, I always did, but I can’t remember it. But even if I didn’t, I could say it that night when she came back to pick me up. I could always apologize and make up for it. Except when I got off work that evening, she wasn’t there. She was always in the parking lot waiting for me. She had never been late before, but maybe there was traffic. I called her, but she didn’t answer. Her phone rang and rang before going to voice mail. I called and sent texts, but got no response. She remained forever silent.

To say that I was scared was an understatement. I had never been that terrified of anything before, and I had gone through a cancer scare not long before. She had never, in all the years we’d known each other, had never not responded to me like this. Something was wrong, I just knew it. I couldn’t begin to guess what that might be, but… I could feel it in my heart… in my soul… something was very wrong.

I took an Uber home, calling her number back to back the whole trip. We lived an hour outside of the city and my stomach was in knots the whole way. I even started leaving her voice messages.

Please baby, just pick up. Let me know you’re okay. Please baby, you’re killing me. Please pick up.

I was sobbing by the time I got to the house. I ran up onto the wide porch where we’d often sit and watch the sun go down together and to the front door. Hands shaking, I unlocked it. I hurried inside, calling her name as loudly as I could. I rushed into the kitchen, which was dark and quiet. And then I saw them… the letters. I walked over as though in a trance. Somehow, someway, I knew what it meant before I opened the letter with my name written in that messy handwriting of hers.

She had arranged the letters on the bar in circle. One to her mother. One to her father. One to her older sister. One to her younger sister. One to her brother. And one to me.

I opened the letter addressed to me and began to read. To this day, I’ve never finished it. The moment I realized, fully realized, what my baby had done… I just started screaming. I said before that I had never been quite so scared before. This moment here? This moment absolutely destroyed everything that had come before it. I don’t think anything will ever be as terrifying as this moment. I ran upstairs, screaming her name and dreading what I would find. What had she done? Would she have hung herself? Shot herself? Was I going to find her in a pool of her own blood, her wrists cut deeply?

Instead, I found her in our bed. She just looked like she was sleeping. I rushed over, calling her name. She wouldn’t wake up. I begged her and shook her, but she remained lost to me. I checked her pulse. It was oh so very faint, but it was there. I pulled out my phone to call emergency services. While it rang, I darted into our bathroom and found the empty pill bottle… and the empty bottle of vodka. They were sleeping pills, some of mine.

I scarcely remember the phone conversation with the 911 operator. I was lost, in a daze. Why? Why had she done this? I thought she was happy. I had thought… I didn’t make sense. How could I have been so blind? How could she have been driven to this and I never saw a thing?

Paramedics were sent to the house. I laid there in bed, just cradling her in my arms and whispering to her.

It’ll be okay, baby. I’m right here and I promise I’ll never let go. Please, stay with me, honey. Please, don’t go away and leave me here all alone. I can’t… please…

And then we were in an ambulance, racing across the city to the hospital. I don’t remember much of the paramedics arriving or them taking her to the ambulance. I just remember sitting next to her, clinging to her hand and pleading with her to hold on.

It was the most selfish thing I had ever done. She so clearly didn’t want to. I just didn’t understand why. Why? Why didn’t I know?

There is a road just shy of an hour outside of Houston. It’s quite remote. In fact, if you didn’t know it was there you’d be hard pressed to ever find it. It’s long at just over two miles and quite twisty and winding. Nearly it’s entire length is completely covered by arching tree branches and thick woods, creating a tunnel of nature leading further and further away from civilization. At the right time of day this road is, in my opinion at least, one of the most beautiful sights in the world. The way the sun cuts through the branches, casting golden rays of light through the trees is just perfect. You really feel as though you’re driving through an enchanted forest.

I still remember the first time we saw it, Serina and I. We had been driving around for much of the day, a Saturday to be precise, looking at houses to purchase. The move to Texas was fast approaching and we needed a place to live. I had found several places close to the city, mainly for convenience and to bring a note of familiarity to Serina. She grew up in New York City, and while Houston is very different in almost every way, I thought perhaps living close to downtown might make her feel more at home.

But the longer we looked, the less interested she seemed to become. I knew she wasn’t thrilled with the idea of moving, but I had hoped that this visit might help her warm up to it. Perhaps it was cruel of me to ask this of her. I mean, she was the only one having to give up anything. She had a thriving business in New York. All of her close family was there. She had even enrolled in college classes not too long before. I was asking her to give up everything she knew and make running her business significantly more difficult, all so I could advance my career. Do I sound like a bitch to you yet? I certainly sound like one to me, I’ll tell you that much for free.

The money was good, really good. And the possible career opportunities were even better. I couldn’t turn it down. It would change everything for us. I could easily provide for both of us. Serina wouldn’t even have to work. She could be the stay at home mom she’d always talked about when the time came for us to think about children. It would be for the best, I would tell myself. I would make it up to her somehow.

But as the hours dragged on and we saw house after house, I struggled to see her ever being happy here. At least until we turned onto that road. The smile that lit up her face, that one that sends little flutters through my heart (and if you’ve ever been in love, you know the one I’m talking about) made me think that maybe, just maybe, this could work out.

We drove on, following our real estate agent’s black Suburban until the tunnel of trees opened onto rolling hills and farmland with open sky as far as you could see. Large farmhouses were dotted here and there, set well back from the road that continued to carry us toward the house that would soon become ours. Sitting on not quite four acres, the pale blue and white two story, 3400 square foot, four bedroom, three bath was larger than we needed. It was further away from, well, anything that made it convenient and was more expensive than we’d budgeted to boot, but when we parked on that sweeping front drive and waited for our real estate agent to collect her paperwork and join us on that wraparound front porch, we both knew this was the one.

It just felt right. This was the place we were meant to be. I just knew it. We made the offer then and there, after only a quick tour of the place. When it was accepted a couple of days later, we were both very excited. It was perfect. It was all going to work out.

As I sat in that hospital waiting room, I wished we’d never found that damned road. That’s what I thought of mostly as I waited for news. Not why she’d done it, but how I hadn’t realized how much pain she must have been in and did my actions cause it.

In the moment, I was sure it was me that drove her to this. I mean, this was obviously a new issue. I had known Serina for nigh on fifteen years. This was no lifelong struggle. The only possible option was that I dragged her here. I was selfish and she would never forgive me. Oh, how blind I was. The true reasons are for her to share, if she chooses. But I was so wrong. She had struggled the entire time I had known her, I just never saw it. She kept it bottled up, hidden from the world, from her family… from me.

She didn’t want anyone to know, so she fought on in silence against an enemy no one else could see. She fought a war on her own when I would have gladly taken up arms at her side. But she kept it hidden. I was angry at her for that for a time. Not in this moment, but later. She knew, she confronted me. We talked it out. We’re better. She’s better. She says she is. I try to believe her. I do believe her, but still… I worry. I worry that one day I come home again only this time I’m too late. This time she chose another route and I lose her forever. I don’t think I could survive losing her. She’s been my rock for as long as I can remember. I just wish she had let me be hers.

In closing, I honestly had no plans to write another chapter of this quite yet. I didn’t know what it would be about or anything. Serina and I talked about it, but we hadn’t come up with anything concrete. But on the way home from work today, I saw a billboard that reminded me of what she went through, and still is going through. It said “You’ll never understand the war someone is fighting in their own head. Just be kind.”

That hit me hard. We don’t know the battles the people around us face, even those closest to us. The people we love more than life itself. The people we would kill for. The ones we would die for. We can only see what they show us, even if we think we would feel something is wrong. I thought I would, but I was blindsided. So if there’s anything I want taken from this chapter, it’s just a reminder to be kind. We live in a dark and often cruel world. My Serina survived and is trying her best to get the help she needs. Not everyone gets that chance. So smile at a stranger. Give a dollar to the homeless man on the street corner. Hell, just go tell your family you love them. Just… be kind.