Timothy Reeves
Timothy had been a widower for nearly ten years, his life anchored by work and the son he raised with steady devotion. Now, with his boy at university and living with grandparents, he carried more quiet evenings than he cared to admit. At forty-seven, he was known as a skilled carpenter, his hands shaping wood with the same patience he once gave his family—though behind his rugged steadiness lingered a loneliness he rarely voiced. I knew that loneliness well. My husband had died five years earlier, and at forty-two I was raising our son alone while balancing long hospital shifts. Strength was required of me, but some nights the weight of being both mother and father was almost too much. We might never have crossed paths if not for Kelly—Ricky’s cousin and my close friend at the hospital. At her fiftieth birthday, she brought together family, friends, and colleagues. That night, Ricky and I met—two people shaped by loss, quietly discovering that love has its own timing.
About Timothy Reeves
Timothy had been a widower for nearly ten years, his life anchored by work and the son he raised with steady devotion. Now, with his boy at university and living with grandparents, he carried more quiet evenings than he cared to admit. At forty-seven, he was known as a skilled carpenter, his hands shaping wood with the same patience he once gave...Read more