I was asleep when the hotel phone rang. Looking over at my friend Hannah* as she picked it up, I smiled sleepily and my stomach filled with butterflies.
In just a few hours I would be walking down the aisle in my beautiful dress, saying my vows to the man I loved more than anyone else in the world.
As Hannah handed me the phone, I was so excited about starting the next phase of my life. I had no idea that it was about to be shattered.
I’d met Eric in February 2018 on a dating app. I knew right away that this cool, talkative, gorgeous guy was someone special.
We had friends in common but, for the first time in my life, I didn’t even care what they thought. Even thinking about Eric, who was 31 and worked at a start-up, made my heart beat faster.
Dating is all about getting to know someone, being honest and open, but I had a secret. After just two months together, I was really falling for Eric and I knew that if things were going to get serious between us, he ought to know the truth.
On our next date we were watching a movie. One of the characters, who was struggling with mental health problems, had a semicolon tattoo. “Isn’t that the same tattoo you have on your wrist?” he asked.
That’s when I took a deep breath and told him about my ex-boyfriend, Mike. How we’d met in 2014 and I’d fallen for this funny, kind man. He was 28 and worked as a trader, and after a year of dating I’d been sure we’d be engaged soon.
Then, in June 2015, we were at my parents' house for my 30th birthday. It was the first time our families had met and it was a great day, with food and friends.
My parents had a lovely big garden with a pool and everyone was having a fantastic time.
Suddenly, I heard my brother James scream, “Mike!” Heart pounding in my chest, I ran down the garden and saw Mike on the ground, soaking wet and lying on his side. “Please open your eyes,” I begged as I fell to the ground and started doing CPR.
A shocking accident
The ambulance arrived and whisked him to hospital but there was only bad news. Mike had somehow slipped into the pool, broken his neck and was unable to breathe.
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said. “Mike isn’t going to wake up.”
I was by his side when the doctors turned off his life support machine.
Eric sat quietly and listened to it all. He held my hand as I talked about the devastation and heartbreak. How I threw myself into my work as a school psychologist to try to distract myself.
That I was terrified to love again in case it vanished. And that I’d got this tattoo – like the guy in the movie – to show my story wasn’t over yet.
It was so hard to relive it all. How would Eric react to my past? How would he feel hearing me talk about another man who I’d loved and a relationship that had ended in death rather than a break-up?
But he was amazing. He opened up to me about his life and we had such a deep conversation. Our relationship became so much stronger. Five months later, we moved in together.
My friends and family were thrilled. They loved Eric almost as much as I did and, after the tragedy of losing Mike, they loved seeing me so happy.
Just before Christmas 2019, on a freezing cold day in New York, Eric dropped to one knee. “Kaitlin, will you marry me?” he asked, a huge smile on his face.
Of course I said yes and our families were waiting in a nearby restaurant to surprise me. I felt overwhelmed with happiness.
I knew Mike would always be a part of my life but now, happily engaged to Eric, it felt like that terrible tragedy was behind me. In Eric, I’d found my future – my happy ending.
I threw myself into wedding planning, picking a gorgeous dress and drawing up a guest list. It was going to be big – 250 guests. The day of my dreams. Then Covid-19 struck.
So out went the huge bash, instead it would be just 50 people. I had moments of sadness and worries about elderly family members. Should we wait until the pandemic was over to get married?
But Eric saw it clearly, as usual. “We’re not going to move the wedding,” he said with a smile, holding me close. “I’m so lucky to have found you and I cannot wait to marry you.” With that, all my worries melted away.
In a happy daze
We had a rehearsal dinner with 20 of our closest family and friends the evening before the wedding, in August last year.
People made lovely speeches as we laughed and joked. One friend had arranged a slideshow of pictures – childhood photos of us both and then some of the few short years we’d been together.
Looking at each picture, I was overwhelmed. So much had happened in my life, at times I’d felt that I would never be happy again.
But here I was, about to be married to an amazing man. I almost burst with happiness.
I’d decided to get a room at the hotel with my friend Hannah. Eric was going to hang out with his friends. So I kissed him goodnight, laughing that the next time I saw him it would be at the end of the aisle.
So when Hannah handed me the phone the next morning – the day of our wedding – I was still in a happy daze.
Hearing my mum’s voice, all I could think was maybe I’d overslept! Then I realised how odd she sounded. “Kaitlin,” she said. “You have to come down to the lobby.”
A feeling of dread came over me.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” I replied.
There was a moment of silence that felt like it lasted forever.
“Eric died in the middle of the night.”
I remember every second of what happened next. How Mum came to my room and swept me away.
How I lay outside my parents’ home, on their front garden, in silence, for hours as friends and family sat silently with me. How a grief counsellor came over to help me through the night.
It was different to losing Mike. Then, I had been in denial. Now it was like my brain knew right away – this really was happening.
At just 33, Eric had died of a heart attack in the early hours of our wedding day. He’d had a rare heart condition that no one knew about.
His brother had found him and rushed him to hospital but there was nothing anyone could have done to save him.
My family took care of all the arrangements. Everyone was shocked and heartbroken, but incredibly understanding. It’s hard to describe the pain of those days.
Instead of being on honeymoon in Africa with my new husband, I was standing at his funeral, my heart shattered. There were waves of anger, shock and physical pain. I felt them all.
Tackling grief again
Somehow, I survived the next days and weeks. I talked to my psychiatrist and my grief therapist every week.
I was living at my parents’ house so I didn’t have to return to the apartment we had shared. My siblings went, packed up all our belongings and stored them.
I’ve only recently been able to begin looking through our clothes, sending some of his favourite items to his friends.
As for my rings, the day Eric died I angrily threw my engagement ring across my bedroom, not able to even look at it. But last month, I asked my brother to pick up our wedding rings – engraved with “K & E 8/22/20” – the date we were to marry.
I wear mine every day, on my middle finger on my left hand. Eric’s is in my bedroom.
When Mike died, I wouldn’t leave the house for months. But this time, I’m letting people help me and I’m telling friends and family what I need.
I’m reading and writing about grief and I’ve joined support groups.
I’m still scared and lonely. My unworn wedding dress still hangs in my wardrobe and the unopened gifts still sit in the shed.
There are definitely days where I feel like I want to give up. But I know, without any doubt, that Eric wouldn’t want me to.
So I think about the man he was. His smile and laugh, his love of golf and Bruce Springsteen. How we’d cuddle up to drink wine and talk about our future children.
Eric was the most incredible, positive person – I’m determined to live my life for him.
Can I see myself dating again? The thing is, Mike and Eric did not leave me on bitter terms. I’m left with memories of love, hope and beauty.
These men taught me how to love unconditionally and it is a gift I do not plan on wasting. When the time is right, I will open my heart again and give them back what they wanted most – my happiness.
