Grief has a way of twisting your reality, but this? This was undeniable. Kelly knew her husband’s voice like the back of her hand. And yet, she had just heard it… coming from her daughter’s room. A cold shiver crept down her spine. Jeremy had been gone for two years. So who — or what — was calling out in his voice? Then she stepped inside… and froze.
I’m Kelly. I’m 30, and my life has been a whirlwind of love, loss, and unexpected turns. Two years ago, my world came crashing down when my husband, Jeremy, died in a car accident. I was eight months pregnant with our daughter, Sophia. One moment, I was painting flowers on her nursery walls, dreaming of the life we’d share. The next, my phone rang, shattering that dream into pieces. I’ll never forget that moment. The paintbrush slipped from my fingers, streaking pink across the wall.
“Miss Kelly?” the voice on the other end was calm, practiced. “This is Officer Reynolds…”
“Yes?” My hand instinctively went to my pregnant belly. Sophia kicked, as if sensing my dread.
“There’s been an accident. Your husband…”
“No,” I whispered. “No, please…”
The crash was horrific, so bad that they said I shouldn’t see his body. I never got to say goodbye. The funeral came and went, the casket closed, and life was left in shambles.
“Kelly, honey,” my mom had said, holding me tight at the funeral, as I sobbed. “You have to stay strong. For the baby.”
“How?” I choked out. “How can I 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 never left.
And then, two days ago, something happened that shook me to my core.
It started like any other afternoon. I had put Sophia down for a nap in her room and curled up on the couch with a book. The house was quiet. Peaceful.
Until I heard it.
A window shutting. Not loud — just enough to catch my attention. Probably just the wind, I thought. But then, my blood went cold. I heard it… Jeremy’s voice.
“I love you forever.”
I swear, my whole body turned to ice.
It wasn’t a fading memory in my mind. It wasn’t wishful thinking. It was as clear as day.
Frozen, I sat there, heart racing, my breath caught in my throat. I could feel the pulse in my ears, the pounding of my heart.
“Jeremy?” I whispered, trembling. “Is that you?”
No. No, no, no. Jeremy was gone. This couldn’t be real.
But then I heard it again.
“I love you forever.”
It was coming from Sophia’s room.
I jumped to my feet so fast that my book fell from my lap. My mind raced — Was someone in there? Was I hallucinating? Was Jeremy… alive?
I rushed down the hallway, my feet barely touching the ground, hands ice-cold, stomach churning.
“Please,” I whispered, tears already pricking my eyes. “Please, if you’re there…”
I pushed open Sophia’s door.
She was asleep in her crib, curled up, hugging a teddy bear. The room was just as I had left it. No open windows. No shadows lurking. Nothing.
And then I heard it again.
“I love you forever.”
My heart stopped.
“Jeremy?” My voice cracked. “Is this some cruel joke? Please… I can’t… I can’t take this…”
I scanned the room, my hands shaking as I moved to the window. There had to be an explanation.
My fingers brushed the glass. Shut. Locked. Outside, a small tree branch leaned against the windowpane, broken from where it had fallen.
Okay, that explained the noise. But Jeremy’s voice?
My gaze darted back to Sophia, who stirred in her sleep, clutching the bear tighter.
“Dada,” she murmured softly.
And that’s when it hit me.
The bear.
I dropped to my knees, trembling hands reaching for it. Pressed it.
“I love you forever.”
My chest squeezed as the voice filled the air. Jeremy’s voice… coming from the bear.
“Oh God,” I whispered through sobs, clutching the bear to my chest. “Oh God, Jeremy…”
Sitting on the couch, I stared at the bear like it might come to life. I had no memory of buying it. Had someone given it to Sophia?
And then it clicked. A week ago, we celebrated Sophia’s second birthday. My mother-in-law, Gloria, had given it to her.
“Look what Grandma got you!” I had said, forcing a smile through the ache in my chest. Another birthday without Jeremy.
I hadn’t given it much thought back then. It was just another stuffed animal.
But now? Now, I needed answers.
I called Gloria.
She picked up on the second ring. “Kelly, hi, sweetie! Everything okay?”
I gripped the bear tighter. “Did you know this thing plays Jeremy’s voice?”
There was silence. Then, a hesitant, almost reluctant, “Oh… did it finally play?”
My stomach twisted. “Finally? What do you mean ‘finally’?”
Gloria sighed. “I was wondering when you’d hear it.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Gloria. What did you do?”
“Kelly, please,” her voice wavered. “Just let me explain…”
“Explain what?” I demanded, my voice rising. “Explain why you thought it was okay to… to…”
I couldn’t finish the sentence.
Gloria arrived an hour later, looking fragile and nervous. She sat down across from me, hands folded, eyes avoiding mine.
“I just… I thought it would help,” she said softly.
I placed the bear between us. “Help who?”
She exhaled deeply. “Sophia. And you.”
I stared at her, speechless.
“Kelly,” she reached out, taking my hand. “Every time Sophia asks about her daddy… every time I see you struggling to explain it to her… it breaks my heart.”
“And you don’t think this breaks mine?” My voice cracked. “Hearing his voice again, out of nowhere?”
Gloria swallowed hard. “After Jeremy died, I couldn’t stop thinking about how Sophia would never know her dad’s voice. So, I took a recording from your wedding video. You remember his vows?”
My throat closed.
“‘I love you forever,’” she whispered.
I choked back a sob. “I remember. He worked so hard on those vows, wanted them to be perfect…”
She clasped her hands together. “I had it sewn into the bear before her birthday. I wanted her to have a piece of him. To know he’s always with her.”
I blinked hard, staring at the table, my mind reeling.
She had meant well. I knew that. But I felt blindsided.
“Gloria,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “You should have told me.”
“I know,” she admitted with a fragile smile. “I just didn’t want to upset you.”
“Upset me?” I laughed bitterly. “I thought I was going crazy. I thought… for a moment, I thought he was…”
“Alive?” Gloria finished softly.
She moved around the table, pulling me into her arms as I broke down.
“I miss him so much,” I sobbed, my voice raw. “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 in my lap, my fingers tracing the soft fabric as I gazed at my little girl — the daughter Jeremy would never get to know.
She looked so much like him. The same nose, the same dimple, the same sparkling 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, and his familiar voice filled the room, filling my heart.
“I love you forever.”
A lump formed in my throat, and I wiped my eyes, swallowing the ache.
I missed him.
Sophia stirred, her eyes fluttering open. “Mama?”
“Hey, baby girl,” I whispered, stroking her cheek.
“Bear?” She reached for the teddy.
I handed it to her, watching as she pressed it against her chest. Jeremy’s voice filled the room again.
“That’s your daddy,” I said, my voice thick with tears. “He loves you so, so much.”
“Dada?” She looked at the bear with wide eyes, then back at me.
“Yes, sweetheart. That’s Dada.”
She hugged the bear tighter, closing her eyes. “Love Dada.”
For so long, I thought I had lost everything. But in my daughter’s arms, there was still a piece of him.
I kissed Sophia’s forehead.
“You’ll always have him with you, my sweet girl,” I whispered. “Always.”
The grief would never fully leave. It would always be there, lingering.
But for the first time in so long… I didn’t feel so alone.
