Grief plays tricks on the mind, but this? This was real. Kelly knew her husband’s voice, and she had just heard it—coming from her daughter’s room. A chill ran down her spine. Jeremy had been dead for two years. So who—or what—was speaking in his voice?
Then, she stepped into the room… and froze.
My name is Kelly. I’m 30 years old, and my life has been a rollercoaster of intense love and heartbreaking loss. My husband, Jeremy, died in a car accident two years ago. I was eight months pregnant with our daughter, Sophia. One moment, I was painting flowers on the walls of her nursery, dreaming about our future, and the next, I was receiving a phone call that shattered my world.
I remember that moment like it was yesterday. The paintbrush slipped from my fingers, leaving a streak of pink on the wall.
“Ms. Kelly?” The voice on the phone was calm, practiced. “This is Officer Reynolds…”
“Yes?” My hand instinctively went to my swollen belly. Sophia kicked, as if sensing my fear.
“There’s been an accident. Your husband…”
“No,” I whispered. “No, please…”
They told me the crash had been horrific—so bad that they advised me not to see his body. I never got to say goodbye. Just a closed casket at the funeral. That was it.
“Kelly, sweetheart,” my mother said, holding me as I sobbed at the funeral. “You have to stay strong. For the baby.”
“How?” I choked out. “How am I supposed to do this without him? He was supposed to be here. He was supposed to hold her…”
Two years later, I was doing my best to move forward, to be strong for Sophia. But the emptiness? It never really left.
And then, two days ago, something happened that made me question everything.
It was an ordinary afternoon. I had just put Sophia down for her nap and settled onto the couch with a book. The house was quiet. Peaceful.
Then I heard it.
The sound of a window closing. Not loud—just enough to make me look up. I figured it was probably the wind. But then, my blood ran cold when I heard it.
Oh, my God.
Jeremy’s voice.
“I will always love you.”
Every muscle in my body locked up.
This wasn’t some blurry memory in my head. It wasn’t wishful thinking. It was CRYSTAL CLEAR.
I sat frozen, my breath stuck in my throat. My ears buzzed. My heart pounded so hard I thought I might pass out.
“Jeremy?” I whispered into the silence, my voice shaking. “Baby, is that you?”
No. No, no, no. Jeremy was gone. This was NOT POSSIBLE.
But then I heard it again.
“I will always love you.”
It was coming from Sophia’s room.
I shot up so fast that my book tumbled off my lap. My mind raced—was someone in there? Was I hallucinating?
Was Jeremy ALIVE?
I rushed down the hallway, barely feeling my feet touch the floor. My hands were ice-cold, and my stomach twisted.
“Please,” I murmured as I ran, tears already forming. “Please, if you’re here…”
I pushed open Sophia’s door.
She was curled up in her crib, fast asleep, clutching her teddy bear. The room was exactly as I had left it. No open window. No shadows lurking in the corners.
Nothing.
But then I heard it again.
“I will always love you.”
I swear my heart stopped.
“Jeremy?” My voice broke. “Is this some kind of cruel joke? Please… I can’t… I can’t take this…”
I scanned the room, my hands trembling as I walked toward the window. There had to be an explanation.
My fingers brushed the glass. It was closed. Locked. Outside, a small tree branch rested against the window, broken as if it had fallen there.
Okay. That explained the noise.
But Jeremy’s voice?
My eyes drifted to Sophia. She stirred in her sleep, squeezing the teddy bear tighter.
“Dada,” she murmured softly.
My heart shattered all over again.
And then it hit me.
The bear.
I dropped to my knees beside her crib, hands shaking as I grabbed it. I pressed it.
“I will always love you.”
My chest tightened so much I thought I might collapse.
Jeremy’s voice… It was coming from the bear.
“Oh, my God,” I sobbed, clutching it to my chest. “Oh, my God, Jeremy…”
I sat on the couch, staring at the bear as if it might come to life.
I had no memory of buying it.
Had someone given it to Sophia?
Then I remembered.
A week ago, we had celebrated Sophia’s second birthday. My mother-in-law, Gloria, had given her the bear.
“Look what Grandma got you!” I had said, trying to sound cheerful despite the ache in my chest. Another birthday without Jeremy.
I had barely looked at it then. Just another stuffed animal.
But now? Now I needed answers.
I called Gloria.
She picked up on the second ring. “Kelly, sweetheart! Is everything okay?”
I gripped the bear tighter. “Did you know this thing plays Jeremy’s voice?”
Silence.
Then, almost hesitantly, she said, “Oh… did it finally start playing?”
My stomach twisted. “Finally? What do you mean ‘finally’?”
Gloria sighed. “I was wondering when you’d hear it.”
I sat up straighter. “Gloria. What did you do?”
“I just… I thought it might help,” she said gently.
“Help who?” I placed the bear between us when she arrived an hour later, her hands folded, her eyes searching my face.
“Sophia. And you.”
I stared at her.
“Kelly,” she reached for my hand across the table. “Every time Sophia asks about her daddy… every time I see you struggle to explain… it breaks my heart.”
“You don’t think it breaks mine?” My voice cracked. “Hearing his voice out of nowhere?”
Gloria swallowed hard. “After Jeremy died, I kept thinking Sophia would never hear his voice. So I took a recording from your wedding video. Remember his vows?”
Tears burned my eyes.
“‘I will always love you,’” she whispered.
Oh, my God.
“I remember,” I choked out. “He… he practiced those vows for weeks. He said they had to be perfect…”
“I had it sewn into the bear before her birthday. I wanted her to have a piece of him. To know he’s still with her.”
I blinked rapidly, my mind spinning.
She had meant well. I knew that. But I felt so blindsided.
“Gloria,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “You should have told me.”
“I know,” she admitted with a small, sad smile. “I just… I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” I let out a bitter laugh. “I thought I was losing my mind. I thought—for a second—I thought he was…”
“Alive?” Gloria finished softly. “Oh, sweetheart…”
She moved around the table, wrapping me in a hug as I broke down.
“I miss him so much,” I sobbed. “Every single day…”
“I know,” she whispered, stroking my hair. “He would be so proud of you, Kelly. So proud of how you’re raising Sophia.”
I didn’t know what to say.
I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t relieved. I was just… overwhelmed.
That night, I sat in Sophia’s room, watching her sleep. The bear was in my lap. My fingers traced the soft fabric as I gazed at my little girl—the daughter Jeremy never got to meet.
She looked so much like him. The same nose, the same dimple when she smiled, the same bright blue eyes.
“You would have loved her so much,” I whispered into the darkness. “She’s perfect, Jeremy. Just perfect.”
I pressed the bear one last time, letting his familiar voice fill the room and my heart.
“I will always love you.”
Tears welled up. I wiped my eyes quickly, swallowing the ache.
I missed him.
