From the start, he was kind and attentive, always willing to listen to me vent about my day, never once distracted by his phone or looking bored. He was everything I thought I needed.
What sealed my affection for him was when he showed up on my doorstep with homemade chicken soup and a collection of my favorite rom-coms. “Everyone needs a little TLC when they’re feeling down,” he said with that charming smile of his.
This is it, I thought. This is the man I’ve been waiting for.
One of the things that endeared Martin to me was his nervous stammer. When he was anxious or stressed, his words would stumble over each other, and I found it adorable. It made him feel more real, more human.
Like the time, a month into our relationship, when he took me to a fancy Italian restaurant for our “monthiversary.” He was passionately explaining the new accounting software at his firm, waving his fork around, when it slipped from his hand, sending tomato sauce all over his shirt. His face turned beet red.
“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” he stammered, looking mortified. “I d-didn’t m-mean to m-mess up.”
I reached across the table, took his hand, and smiled. “It’s okay. Red suits you.”
He laughed, and the tension melted away. That moment solidified my belief that he was someone I could truly be with.
As our relationship grew, Martin opened up about his past, especially about his ex-wife, Janet. He painted a picture of her as someone constantly chasing more—more money, more status, more things. “Nothing was ever enough for her,” he’d say, shaking his head. Their marriage crumbled under the weight of her demands, according to him.
“I couldn’t keep up with her. It felt like I was drowning, and she just kept pushing me under,” he confessed one night. I vowed I’d never be that way—I would love him for who he was, not for what he could provide.
So, when he proposed a year into our relationship, I didn’t hesitate. Our wedding was intimate and beautiful, and it was the happiest day of my life.
But last Tuesday, everything changed.
I had just returned from visiting my mother and decided to surprise Martin with his favorite lasagna. As I pulled into our driveway, I slammed on the brakes when I saw two figures digging in our garden—Martin and Janet.
For a moment, I thought my eyes were deceiving me. What were they doing together? And why were they destroying my garden?
I stormed out of the car and marched over to them. “What’s going on?” I demanded, anger rising in my voice.
Martin froze, dropping the shovel. “M-M-Margaret! Y-you’re h-home early!” His familiar stammer only confirmed my suspicions—he was hiding something.
All the worst thoughts flooded my mind. Was he cheating? Why was Janet here? Why were they digging up our yard?
“We were just…” Martin began, but Janet interrupted.
“She deserves to know, Martin,” she said, wiping her hands. “We buried a time capsule here, ten years ago.”
“A time capsule?” I echoed in disbelief.
“Yes, from when we lived here together,” Janet explained, gesturing to the metal box at their feet. “We always planned to dig it up someday.”
Martin looked sheepish. “Y-yeah, we thought it’d be fun to reminisce.”
I stood there, stunned. “So, you decided to destroy my garden for your little trip down memory lane?”
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”
“No, you didn’t,” I snapped before walking into the house, slamming the door behind me. Inside, I paced back and forth, trying to wrap my head around what just happened. How could Martin keep this from me? And why on earth would he prioritize his past with Janet over our life together?
I heard the front door open and the sound of hushed voices. Then Martin called out, “Margaret? Can we talk?”
I stepped into the hallway, where they stood with the muddy time capsule between them.
“What’s there to talk about?” I asked coldly.
“Please, let us explain,” Martin pleaded. “It’s not what you think.”
Janet chimed in. “We just wanted to look back. There’s nothing more to it—”
“Fine,” I interrupted. “Go ahead and dig up the past. I’ll be outside.”
I stormed out of the house, feeling a mixture of anger and betrayal. As I looked at the mess they’d made of my garden, an idea formed in my mind.
I gathered wood for a bonfire. By the time the fire was roaring, the sun had set. I could hear Martin and Janet laughing inside, likely over something from the time capsule. I called out, “Why don’t you bring that stuff out here? We could have a bonfire.”
They joined me, bringing the capsule with them. I picked up a handful of its contents—old photos, letters, trinkets. Without hesitation, I tossed them into the flames.
“What are you doing?” Janet gasped.
“Burnt bridges should stay burnt,” I said firmly. “It’s time to focus on the future, not the past.”
As I watched the fire consume their memories, I realized something—Martin wasn’t the perfect man I thought I’d married. He was flawed, just like anyone else.
Janet backed away, her face pale. “I think I should go.”
Neither Martin nor I stopped her as she left. Once we were alone, Martin turned to me with tears in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Margaret,” he said. “I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t know how to tell you about the capsule. I was afraid you’d think I still had feelings for Janet. I just wanted to get it done before you came back. I messed up. Can you forgive me?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, staring at the fire. “You’ve broken my trust, Martin. That’s not something you fix overnight.”
“We have a lot to talk about,” I continued. “But not tonight. Tonight, I need some space.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Martin said, defeated, before retreating into the house.
I stayed by the fire as it slowly died down. The garden would need to be replanted. New seeds, new life. Maybe our relationship could be the same.
Only time would tell which path we’d choose. But one thing was certain: Martin would never be the same in my eyes.
What would you have done if you were in my place?
Christopher Reeve’s Son’s Life Shattered by the Loss of Both Parents Before Age 13
There are many stories about kids who look just like their famous parents.
From Michael J. Fox’s twin daughters to Julia Roberts’s teenage daughter who looks just like her, and even Elvis Presley’s grandson, there are many celebrity kids who make us do a double-take.
Christopher Reeve’s 29-year-old son, Will, is one of those kids. Not only does he look exactly like his father, but he is also working hard to carry on his father’s inspiring legacy.
Sadly, Will had to face a huge loss when he was only 13 years old. He lost both of his parents at such a young age.
What does a hero look like?
For many people growing up in the late 70s and early 80s, a hero looked like Christopher Reeve.
He became famous for playing Superman in the 1978 movie, and his performance earned him a BAFTA award for Most Promising Male Newcomer. He also starred in three more Superman films: Superman II, Superman III, and Superman IV: The Quest for Peace.
Christopher Reeve, born in New York in 1952, was more than just an actor. He was also a film director, producer, screenwriter, equestrian, and activist.
However, everything changed for Christopher Reeve on May 27, 1995. During a horse riding competition in Culpeper, Virginia, he fell off his horse Buck and injured his spinal cord.
The fall left him paralyzed from the neck down and confined to a wheelchair. His family and fans were devastated.
Christopher’s mother even asked doctors to stop his breathing machine and let him die. According to the New York Times, if Christopher had fallen just one centimeter more to the left, he might have died instantly. If he had landed slightly to the right, he might have only had a concussion.
Christopher Reeve was just 42 years old when he became a quadriplegic. After his accident, he was in a wheelchair and needed a portable ventilator to help him breathe for the rest of his life.
Doctors quickly told him that there was little chance of improvement and said it would be “impossible” for him to regain any movement.
Reeve was in a lot of pain and, in the early days at the hospital, he was heavily medicated and confused. After hearing the doctors’ grim diagnosis, he felt as though his life had been shattered.
Christopher Reeve didn’t want to be a burden to his family and suggested to his wife, Dana Morosini, that they might need to consider ending his life support.
With tears in her eyes, Dana replied, “I will support whatever you decide, because this is your life and your decision. But I want you to know that I’ll be with you for the long haul, no matter what. You’re still you. And I love you.”
Instead of giving up, Reeve focused on activism. He and Dana started the Christopher Reeve Foundation, which was later renamed the Christopher & Dana Reeve Foundation. They also co-founded the Reeve-Irvine Research Center, advocating for spinal cord injury research and stem cell research.
Christopher Reeve made sure his son had a happy childhood despite the challenges he faced. In a 2016 interview with PEOPLE, Will Reeve shared that his upbringing felt “totally normal.”
He said, “They were the people who told me to turn off the TV, to eat my broccoli, to go to bed. I know not every kid sees their dad on magazine covers at the grocery store, but… it was a totally normal childhood.”
Will Reeve also remembered a special moment when his father, Christopher Reeve, taught him how to ride a bike from his wheelchair. “I didn’t think it would work. I was terrified, but I could hear my dad’s voice guiding me: ‘Steady, steady, left, right, left, right,’” Will recalled. By the third lap, he was smiling and waving at his dad, who was smiling back. “That meant so much to him. Later on, I’d race him in his wheelchair, and he’d let me win.”
Unfortunately, Will’s father passed away while they were still working on rebuilding their lives.
Christopher Reeve had health issues from a young age, including asthma and allergies that affected his breathing. At 16, he also developed alopecia areata, which caused his hair to fall out. Although he managed this condition during his acting career, he chose to shave his head after becoming paralyzed.
In the early 2000s, Reeve faced several infections. In October 2004, he was being treated for an infected pressure ulcer that had led to sepsis. On October 9, he was watching his son Will play hockey, but later that night, he suffered a heart attack after receiving antibiotics for his infection.
Christopher Reeve fell into a coma, and there was nothing the doctors could do. He passed away on October 10, 2004, at the age of 52. Both his wife, Dana, and the doctors attributed his death to an adverse reaction to medication.
Christopher’s body was cremated at Ferncliff Cemetery in Hartsdale, New York, and his ashes were scattered.
Just 10 months after Christopher’s death, Dana was diagnosed with lung cancer, even though she had never smoked. According to Christopher P. Andersen, Dana had performed and sung in smoky bars and hotel lobbies during the early days of her career, which might have contributed to her illness.
Dana Reeve, an American actress and singer, married Christopher Reeve in Williamstown, Massachusetts, on April 11, 1992.
Dana battled a malignant lung tumor for several months and passed away on March 6, 2006, at the age of 44.
Their son, William Elliot “Will” Reeve, was born on June 7, 1992. Tragically, Will was only 13 years old when he lost both of his parents.
Today, Will Reeve has grown up to look just like his father, Christopher Reeve, though he has largely stayed out of the spotlight.
Will has completed his education and is now building a successful career in the sports news industry.
At 29 years old, Will’s resemblance to his father is striking. But what’s truly remarkable about him is that he continues the important work his parents began.
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