It's been three years since she came back. Since her husband died. It was tragic. They were only married for a little over a year.

During the first few months she was hysterical. Always crying. Rarely eating. Rarely leaving her room. Often waking up from terrible nightmares. Her father almost had to send to therapy.

He made it his responsibility as well as ours to take care of her. To make sure she could take care of herself again. But there was one rule we were given.

We could never ask about what happened. We had to wait for her to tell us. If she ever felt that she could.

Finally, after about five months, she started acting like herself. Her father didn't feel that she was ready to go back on stage, but she sometimes helped the backstage crew. I even saw her smile a few times.

That is not to say that she was ever really the same during the next few months. There were still days when she would cry all alone in her bed. Days when she felt like the world had failed her.

Now here we are, three years since that fateful day. She was so much happier. Always smiling despite how hard her father pushed her. She even took the lead in some of our performances. It truly felt like I had one of my closest friends again.

But even so there were still those days, when nothing would cheer her up. When all she wanted to do was cry and be alone.

There were four days in particular.

The first three were understandable. Their wedding anniversary, his birthday, and of course the day he died.

But the fourth, we couldn't figure it out. As far as we could tell, they never shared anything on that particular date. It wasn't the first time they met, it wasn't the day when they had their first date, and it wasn't even the day when he proposed to her.

But once again we were not allowed to ask. All we could do was speculate as to why that particular day was causing her so much grief.

And now here we are four year later. I had gotten the nerve to ask her out and even managed to get her to agree to marry me.

We were together now, in the hospital. She had just given birth to our daughter. Our beautiful daughter.

I have never felt more happy then I did at that moment when I got to hold that little bundle of joy.

But when I looked at my wife I couldn't help but stop grinning.

Tears were falling down her face. And I knew they were not tears of joy.

When she broke down while attempting to talk to the little new life, it became so clear.

I finally understood why that fourth day caused her so much heartbreak.