After 31 Years of Marriage, I Discovered a Key to a Storage Unit with Its Number in My Husband’s Old Wallet – I Went There Without Telling Him

And my legs nearly gave out.
Inside were neatly stacked boxes labeled in Mark’s handwriting. Plastic bins. Photo albums. A garment bag hanging from a hook. Dust and old paper filled the air.

I opened the nearest box.

Photographs.

Mark was in them — younger, but unmistakably him. The same smile. The same posture. Hands tucked into pockets just as he still did.

But he wasn’t alone.

A woman stood beside him.

The dates printed on the photos made my heart pound.