This story has stayed with me for years; it is somehow always in the back of my mind. It is a reminder that when you do get that rare gift of true love, never, ever let it go away…

The original author of this story is unknown. You can read it below.

“When I got home that night my wife was setting up the dinner table as usual. I took her hand and said ‘I have to tell you something’.

She sat down slowly, and I could see the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly, my mind froze, and I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to tell her what I was thinking. I wanted a divorce.

I calmly said it. She didn’t seem to be angry; instead she asked me softly, ‘Why?’

I couldn’t respond. This made her angry. She shouted at me, ‘You’re not a man!’

That night, we didn’t speak to each other. I could hear her weeping in the bedroom. She wanted to know what happened to our marriage.

But I couldn’t give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Joana.

I no longer loved my wife, I felt sorry for her! With a deep sense of guilt, I wrote a divorce agreement. I said that she could own our house, our car, and 30 percent of my company. She looked at the paper and just tore it into little pieces. The woman who gave me ten years of her life was now a stranger. I pitied her, her wasted time and energy, but I had already said that I loved Joana.

She broke into tears. The cry was actually a kind of release for me, and the idea of divorce was clearer now.”

“The following day I got home very late and I saw her sitting at the table, writing something. I didn’t eat dinner and went straight to bed.

Later that night I woke up and she was still there, writing, so I just turned over and fell asleep again.

When I woke up in the morning she came to me and gave me a paper with her divorce conditions: She didn’t want to take anything from me. All she needed was a month’s notice before the divorce. During that month, she wanted us to try to live as normal a life as possible, for one reason – our son had exams in a month’s time so she didn’t want to bother him with our broken marriage.

It was simple and I agreed. But then she asked for one more thing: she wanted me to carry her out of our bedroom to the front door every morning, just as I had carried her on our wedding day.

I thought she was starting to go crazy. But then I thought about our son and I accepted the odd request.

I also told Joana about my wife’s conditions. She just laughed and thought it was absurd.

We hadn’t had any contact since I explicitly expressed my divorce intention. So the first day I carried her to the door, we both looked clumsy. Our boy walked behind us and started clapping, ‘Daddy is holding mommy in his arms.’

His words hurt me. I walked over 30 feet with my wife in my arms, from the bedroom to the door.

She closed her eyes and said calmly: ‘Don’t tell our boy about the divorce.’

I nodded. We both went to work.

The second day was a bit easier than the first. She leaned on my chest, I could feel the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t looked at her closely for a long time. She wasn’t young anymore. She had wrinkles on her face and her hair was graying!

Our marriage had taken its toll on her. I stood for a minute and asked myself what I had done to her.

When I lifted her up on the sixth day, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was my wife, the woman who had given ten years of her life to me. In the following days, I noticed that our sense of intimacy was growing again.

The everyday workout made me stronger, so it was easier to carry her as the month slipped by.

One morning, she was looking for what to wear. She tried a couple of dresses and sighed: ‘They’ve all grown bigger.’

That’s when I realized she was very thin – that was the reason I could carry her more easily. Suddenly I realized I had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously, I touched her hair.

Our son entered the room and said, ‘Daddy, it’s time to carry mom out.’

To him, seeing me carrying his mom out had become an essential part of his life.

She told him to come closer and hugged him tightly. I couldn’t look. I was afraid that I might change my mind at this last minute. I then picked her up and carried her down to the front door.

Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her tightly; it felt like our wedding day.

On the last day, I picked her up, but I could hardly move a step. She was so thin I almost started crying. Our son was already at school. I held her tightly and said, ‘I didn’t realize that our life lacked intimacy.’

I drove to the office, jumped out of the car without closing the door, and climbed the stairs swiftly. Joana opened the door and I said to her, “Sorry, I do not want to divorce my wife.’

Joana thought I had a fever. I said: ‘My wife and I love each other. My marriage was probably boring because we didn’t value the details of our life. Everything was just a routine. I did not realize this until I started carrying her out the room. Now I know I’m supposed to hold her until death do us apart.’

Joana slapped me and burst into tears. I ran back to my car and drove straight to the florist. I bought a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and told her to write: ‘I’ll carry you out every morning until death do us apart.’

I was so thrilled on my way home. Never felt like this before.

I arrived at my house with a smile on my face and flowers in my hands. I ran up the stairs, only to find my wife in the bed – dead.

She had been fighting cancer for months, and I was so busy with Joana to even notice.

She was aware that she would die soon, and that is why she asked for a month’s notice before the divorce – to keep the negativity from the divorce away from our son.

At least in my son’s eyes, I’m a loving husband.

The small details of your lives are what really matter in a relationship.

It’s not the house, the car, or the money in the bank. These things just create an illusion of happiness.

So find time to be your loved one’s friend. Do those little things for each other that build intimacy. We do not know what we have until we lose it…”