By the time my husband graduated from medical school, I thought the hardest part of our life was finally behind us.
I thought the sacrifices, the sleepless nights, the aching feet, and the years of putting my own dream aside had all been leading to this one day.
Marcus’s graduation day.
The day we were supposed to look at each other and say, “We made it.”
Instead, he handed me an envelope that changed everything.
When Marcus and I first met, we were both first-year medical students who thought being exhausted all the time meant we were doing something right.
We met in anatomy lab over the last pair of gloves.
“You took those,” he said.
“I got there first.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It is if I’m the one holding them.”
He laughed, and that was the start of everything.
We began studying together that same week. Then we started eating meals between classes, walking each other home after late nights at the library, and talking about the future like it was something already waiting for us.
Marcus wanted internal medicine. I wanted emergency medicine.
He liked plans. I liked momentum.
He made me feel steadier. I made him laugh when he forgot how.
Back then, I thought that was enough.
