I Met the Love of My Life at the Worst Possible Time, on the Day I Was Marrying Another Man — Story of the Day

…His eyes searched mine, surprised. “Doing what?” he asked softly.

“Making me feel like this,” I whispered, even though I hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

There was silence between us, heavy and fragile. The trees stood still, as if listening. I turned away, trying to focus on the camera, on anything other than the aching in my chest.

“Amelia,” David said, his voice low, “I didn’t mean for this to happen. But I can’t help it. Can you?”

I closed my eyes. I thought of Rob—his kindness, his steadiness, the way he made me feel safe. And I thought of David—the electricity, the rush, the feeling of being alive.

“No,” I admitted. “I can’t.”

We didn’t kiss. We didn’t even touch. But in that moment, something passed between us that couldn’t be undone.

I went home and sat in silence, unsure of everything. I loved Rob. I did. But there was something else pulling at me, something wild and unexplained.

That night, I lay awake beside my husband, staring at the ceiling. I didn’t know what to do.

Weeks passed. David and I stopped meeting. I told him I couldn’t anymore, and he understood. But every time I walked past the punch bowl from our wedding—still sitting in a photo on our mantel—I remembered how it all began.

I stayed with Rob. I chose the safe love, the built love. The one that grew over time.

But every now and then, I still wonder about the other kind—the instant kind. The kind that crashes in like a wave and never really leaves.

Maybe in another life, David.

In this one, I chose what I knew.
And I still wonder if love… sometimes comes at the wrong time.