There is one question he doesn't ask her over the time they've spent together. One question that he will never ask. And it's not the big ones. The "Will you make time for me" or the "Will you marry me" type of questions. He's asked her those a long time ago.
No, the one question he won't ask is "Why me?"
And really, at this point in their relationship, he shouldn't be asking this question even to himself. They are happily married, and they are expecting their first child, and everything is as it should be, what he hoped it to be for so long, and he should have his answer. But he doesn't. Not really.
Because despite the "I love yous" and the "I can't live without yous," there is always a hint of disbelief that wells up in him each time he hears her reassurance. Always a bit of doubt.
But to say he doubts her love is not a fair assumption. He knows she loves him. This he can never refute, but he doesn't know why she does. Why him?
Blame it on the people around him. The people who told him that he could never be with a girl like her or that he doesn't deserve her or that she could do so much better. Blame it on them because each time he heard those words, he believed them. And those words haunted him. To the point that it took years for him to ask her if she would even consider giving him a chance. Just a chance was all he could ever hope for.
Even now, those words still haunt him. They haven't gone away. He believes them even more. Because honestly, she is better than him, and she does deserve someone else, someone better, and his chance should have stopped a long time ago.
But here she is. She's welcoming him home, to their home, and she's rubbing her stomach that's begun to show a bump, and she's wrapping her arms around him and whispering an "I've missed you" into his shirt, and she's projecting, without words, that she's in love with him. That she will always be in love with him.
And this should be his answer. Or this should give him the courage to ask that stupid question. But he can't. Because he's afraid. He's afraid that if he asks, she'll realize the validity of all those statements. He's afraid that the illusion she's under will disappear, leaving her to view him for who he truly is. She'll be able to see him, and she'll finally see the truth. She'll know.
And it's silly. But he can't ask. He can't take that risk. So he'll never know why she chose him or why she loves him. He'll just know that she did and that she does. He'll just know that he's blessed.
Maybe he'll be able to ask her in the next lifetime. Maybe he'll feel like he deserves her then. Maybe he will. But he probably won't.