When my fiancée, Lori, suggested displaying her late husband’s photos at our wedding, I was dumbfounded. Who asks to bring photos of their deceased spouse to celebrate a new marriage? But I agreed… with one surprising condition.
I’m not one to talk about my personal life online, but what happened recently compelled me to post it. My life had been going absolutely fine until the day Lori and I were talking about our wedding plans.
Lori said something that night that made me wonder if I was marrying the right woman.
A man looking ahead | Source: Midjourney
Let me back up a bit.
I work as a business analyst at one of the best companies in the city. I’ve been there for four years and my career is going quite well. I love my job because it allows me to meet all kinds of people with different perspectives.
In fact, my job is the reason I met Lori in the first place.
A man at work | Source: Pexels
She joined the company around the same time I did. We were assigned to the same project and we hit it off right away.
She was smart, funny, and had a way of seeing problems that made them seem solvable. We started as colleagues, became friends, and eventually, something more.
“Brandon, can you review these numbers before the meeting?” he asked, sliding a folder across my desk with that smile that always made me forget what he was doing.
“Only if you have coffee with me afterward,” he would reply, and she would pretend to think about it before agreeing.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
Those coffees turned into lunches, lunches turned into dinners, and before I knew it, we were a couple. She was easy to talk to and made me laugh like no one else.
Early in our relationship, Lori told me about Logan, her late husband. They had been married for two years when he died in a car accident four years earlier. I could see the pain in her eyes when she talked about him, and I respected that he had been an important part of her life.
Silhouette of a man | Source: Midjourney
“He loved hiking,” she told me once over dinner. “We went to Colorado for our first anniversary, and he insisted on climbing that ridiculous mountain at sunrise.”
“Was it worth it?” I asked.
“The views were breathtaking,” he said, his eyes distant. “But most of all I remember how happy he seemed when we reached the top.”
It seemed natural for her to talk about him. He was such an important part of her story, and sharing those memories was her way of grieving. I’d never felt threatened by a man who was no longer here.
Or at least, that’s what I told myself.
A man thinking | Source: Midjourney
Six months ago, I proposed to her. We were at her favorite restaurant, and I kept the ring in my pocket all night, waiting for the right moment.
“Lori,” I said, taking her hand across the table, “these past few years have been the happiest of my life. Will you marry me?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, of course.”
Everything had been going smoothly until one night last week. We were going over wedding plans at the kitchen table, reviewing seating arrangements and floral arrangements.
A Wedding Planning Notebook | Source: Midjourney
“Where do you think Logan’s portrait could go?” Lori asked casually, as if asking about centerpiece placement.
I looked up from the guest list I was reviewing. “What do you mean?”
“Logan’s picture,” she repeated, a slight frown creasing her brows. “For the wedding. I was thinking one of my bridesmaids could hold his picture during the ceremony.”
I put down my pen. “Hold your portrait during the ceremony?”
A framed photo | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, and I’d also like to have your photo on our table. And when we take photos, I want to have your photo in most of them.”
I stared at her, hoping she’d laugh and tell me she was joking. She didn’t.
“Lori,” I said carefully, “do you mean you want your late husband to be part of our wedding day?”
“Of course,” he replied. “He’s still important to me, Brandon. I can’t pretend he never existed.”
I sat back down in the chair, truly stunned.
A man sitting in his chair | Source: Midjourney
Was I really going to share my wedding day with her late husband? The day that was meant to be about us, our future, and our love story… should I make room for a ghost?
“Doesn’t that seem a little… unusual to you?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level.
“I don’t see why,” she said, her tone becoming increasingly defensive. “Many people honor their deceased loved ones at their weddings.”
“Yes, with a candle or a mention in the program,” I replied. “Not by having them be present for the entire ceremony and appear in our wedding photos. It’s not a memorial service. It’s our wedding day.”
A man talking while looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
“You’re being insensitive,” she retorted. “Logan was a very important part of my life.”
“And I’ve respected that from day one,” I countered. “I’ve heard all the stories, seen all the photos, and even visited his grave with you on his birthday. But our wedding day should be about us. About our beginning. Not about your past.”
We talked and talked like this for hours. Neither of us was willing to give in. Finally, I raised my hands in surrender.
A man raises his hands in surrender | Source: Midjourney
“Look, I don’t want to fight about this tonight. Let me think about it, okay? It’s a big decision.”
She nodded, though I could tell from the set of her jaw that she wasn’t happy. That night we went to bed with an awkward silence between us.
For the rest of the night, I struggled with my emotions. Was I being selfish? Was this just her way of processing her grief? Or was I about to marry someone who was still in love with a ghost?
An apartment window at night | Source: Pexels
In the morning, I had made a decision.
I was already at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee when Lori came down the stairs. She looked tired, as if she hadn’t slept much.
“Good morning,” he said cautiously, pouring himself some coffee.
“Good morning,” I replied. I waited for her to sit across from me. “Lori, I’ve thought about it, and I’ll grant your request. But on one condition.”
A man’s hands on a table | Source: Pexels
“Thanks, Brandon,” she said with a huge smile. “What’s the condition?”
I took a deep breath. “If Logan can be at our wedding, then so can Beverly.”
Lori frowned. “Who’s Beverly?”
“My ex.”
He looked at me with wide eyes.
“Your ex-girlfriend?”
I nodded. “If you can honor the man you loved before me, it’s only fair that I can do the same. Perhaps we can put his picture next to Logan’s. And for the ceremony, I can have one of my groomsmen hold a picture of him as well. And during our first dance, I’d love to have his picture next to my heart.”
A man talking to his fiancée | Source: Midjourney
“But… that’s completely different,” she stammered.
“Is it? Why?” I asked. “Because you were married to Logan and Beverly and I were just dating? Or because Logan died and Beverly and I broke up? What’s the difference, really?”
“It’s not the same at all!” Lori insisted. “Logan didn’t choose to leave me. He was taken from me.”
“So, it’s about honoring someone who didn’t want to leave you,” I said calmly. “But Beverly didn’t want to leave me either. We broke up because she moved across the country to get her dream job. Neither of us wanted it to end.”
An upset man sitting outdoors | Source: Pexels
She remained silent, staring into her coffee cup as if it held the answers.
I stood up and placed the cup in the sink. “Lori, I love you. But if you’re not ready to let go of Logan long enough to celebrate our wedding instead of a weird funeral… then maybe you’re not ready to be my wife.”
Then she looked at me, her eyes shining with tears. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t he?” I leaned against the counter. “Lori, you’ve been talking about Logan since the day we met. At first, I didn’t care. I understood he was an important part of your life. But it’s been four years since he passed away, and sometimes I feel like he’s still more present in your life than I am.”
A man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“That’s not true,” she protested weakly.
“You keep his picture by our bed. You visit his grave every month. You compare restaurant meals to the ones he would have liked. You even call his parents every Sunday,” I said gently. “I’ve never complained about any of it because I know how much you loved him. But our wedding day? That should be the day to start our life together.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. “I don’t want to forget it.”
“No one’s asking you to forget him,” I said, kneeling beside his chair. “But you can’t keep one foot in the past if you want to move forward with me. You have to let him go, at least long enough to make room for us.”
Silhouette of a man | Source: Midjourney
He said nothing, just stared at his hands in his lap.
We didn’t talk much for the rest of the day. I gave him space, working late at the office and picking up takeout on the way home. But that night I realized something. The photo of Logan that had always been on his nightstand? It was gone.
We didn’t talk about it. He never mentioned having her photo at our wedding again. It was as if the conversation had never happened.
Three months later, we got married.
A couple showing off their rings on their wedding day | Source: Pexels
And on our wedding day, it was just the two of us making promises to each other. No ghosts between us.
As it should be.
Later, Lori told me that my “Beverly status” had forced her to see how unfair she was being. “I realized I was asking you to marry both me and my memories,” she told me. “That wasn’t right.”
I learned something important from all of this: Sometimes loving someone means helping them see when they’re stuck in the past. And sometimes, the kindest thing you can do is hold up a mirror so they can see it for themselves.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
Moving on doesn’t mean forgetting the people we’ve loved. It just means making room in our hearts for new love to grow. Lori still keeps a small photo of Logan in her desk drawer and even tells me stories about him sometimes.
Honestly, I don’t care now because I know I’m not competing with a memory anymore.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to real events is purely coincidental and not the author’s intention.
The author and publisher do not guarantee the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters, and are not responsible for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and the opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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