My husband passed away after 37 years of marriage. This morning, when I opened the obituary draft the funeral home emailed me, I almost dropped my phone. It listed three children I had never heard of! When those kids arrived at the funeral and I saw their faces… I thought my entire marriage had been a lie.

Mark died yesterday. We had been married for 37 years, and losing him felt like someone had torn away the most essential part of me.

People began calling almost immediately after the news spread. They all said nearly the same things, with the same soft sympathy in their voices.

“You two had the kind of marriage everyone hopes for.”

“Mark just adored you, Carol. Anyone could see that.”

“You were so lucky to have each other.”

I believed that too. I truly did—until this morning.

The funeral director emailed me the obituary draft for approval.

I opened it at the kitchen table while drinking my second cup of coffee. I was still numb from Mark’s sudden death, so at first I thought I must be misreading something.

… a beloved husband and devoted community member… Survived by his wife, his parents, and his children — Liam, Noah, and Chloe.

I read it again. Then a third time.

Children? Mark and I never had children. He was infertile.

I immediately called the funeral home. “There’s a mistake in the obituary.”