Page 108 of The Spare

“I want to live off the money I earn through my own hard work and determination with Sutter Creek.” I drop my tone, squatting slightly to ensure we’re at eye level as I wrap my hands around hers. “I’d never use you like that to gain access to money. Hell, I don’t want to use Pop that way. And he left it to me.”

A tear spills over her lashes, tracing a wet path down her cheek.

I reach out, swiping it from her chin. Extending my index finger, I nudge the papers. “The date of this contract was long before I begged you to stay. To give our marriage a shot at being the real deal. Long before I said I loved you in our kitchen.” I hang my head. “But that was so overdue, baby. I should have told you that decades ago. But you had to know. I’ve always loved you. And I always will.”

A steady stream of tears pour down her soft face now. I’m praying they’re happy tears.

“I should’ve told you about the details of the trust before. But you were already so generous to do this for me and Pop. There was no way I was obligating you to a day longer than that. Not unless you wanted to stay. For us.” Letting go of her hands, I reach up, swiping away the tears with my thumbs like windshield wipers, as it is a continuous, steady stream. “Do you believe me, Lex?”

Appearing overwhelmed with emotion, she simply nods. And it’s enough. “I believe you,” she splutters. “I should have talked to you about it before things became so turbulent. But I was afraid.”

My heart squeezes. I bend to kiss her forehead. “Afraid of what, baby?”

“That you’d say once the year was over, you wanted a divorce. I knew I could get my heart broken going into this. But I wasn’t sure how I’d manage remaining married if I knew you were counting the days to the end of our contract. And I’d made a commitment to you. And your pop.”

“If anyone was walking away, it wasn’t me. I don’t deserve your forgiveness after all I’ve done. But starting here and now, I pledge to be open and honest about what I’m feeling. And the fact that I never want to spend another day without you in it.”

Getting this out there after all of this time is euphoric. A wave of profound relief crashes through me so strong my knees almost buckle. But I’m not done. “Please come home. There’s something there I want you to see.” Okay, it’s not a ploy. I really want to share this with her. But I need her there with me. It will never be the same without her. It was merely my grandfather’s vineyard estate house before. Filled with childhood memories. There were none worth remembering at my parents’ home. Yet once Alexis moved in, it was my sanctuary. The place I couldn’t wait to return to each day. A home filled with a love I didn’t feel I deserved. Still don’t. But I’m getting there.

An hour later, we’ve returned to the estate house. I’ve encouraged Lexi to relax and take a shower while I make her some tea.

Now, freshly showered and toweling her hair dry on the bed, I bring her a steaming mug of English Breakfast tea, just the way she likes it. As I set it down on her nightstand, I assess whether she’s too tired for anymore talk. It’s been a long night, but I want to get it all out there. The days of suppressing my feelings are over.

“You okay?”

She nods before reaching up to take my hand. She pulls me down to her, placing a chaste kiss on my lips, and I light up like Mickey receiving a kiss from Minnie on a Saturday morning cartoon.

Deciding to go for it, I walk to the kitchen to retrieve the banged up little wooden box I’d left there before returning to the bedroom. Walking to my dresser, I open the top drawer where I keep mementos of special times in my life. There aren’t many, but among the torn tickets to baseball and hockey games, and matchbooks from cool clubs I’d visited, I find a little brass key I’d placed on a chain I wore around my neck the rest of my senior year in high school. It’s as if I’d known our story wasn’t over, regardless of the torment I’d felt.

Extending my hand, I hold out the brass key to her. “I nearly forgot about this until I saw it had been moved from the closet.” I hand her the box. “Do you remember these?”

“Yes. I have no idea what happened to mine. It’s probably tucked away in my old room at Grandpa’s place.”

“Open it.”

Alexis looks down at the time capsule, her shoulders tight. I know what she’s expecting to find inside. Stupid, arrogant receipts of my high school shenanigans. A list of girls’ phone numbers, cigarettes, beer bottle caps, baseball cards, and plenty of condoms. No wonder she’s hesitant. That was such an awful year. I made it an awful year. Well, courtesy of my mother and the poor choices of a lost boy who was protecting himself.

With shaky breath, she fits the key into the lock. She slowly turns it, looking up briefly before lifting the wooden lid. It screeches against the squeaky hinge, reminding us of its age.

Then, she stops breathing.

None of the items she imagined are inside. Resting inside the cheap, lightweight wooden container is a few handfuls of colorful stretched-out hair ties, several packets of unopened Pop Rocks, and a cluster of dried wildflowers. That’s it.

Alexis lets out a soft cry as she takes in the sight. She presses her hand over her mouth as fresh tears stream down her face. Her chest heaves with silent sobs as she touches the flowers from our childhood.

Lexi

The dried petals of the wildflowers crumble softly beneath my trembling fingertips as I nudge each of the items within the box of treasures. I don’t understand. This time capsule was supposed to contain things we valued our senior year. Yet it doesn’t hold a single trace of the arrogant, reckless boy he let the world believe he was back then.

Instead, there are my hair ties. Those infuriating Pop Rocks. And the wildflowers from where we’d spent so many days dreaming of our futures together. “Sam, I don’t understand. Why would you have kept these? You hated me. Taunted me all year with these.” I lift the cherry Pop Rocks with my fingernail.

He lets out a heavy exhale, tucking his hands in his front pockets, hanging his head in shame. “I was so messed up back then, Lex. I didn’t share what I was going through because I thought it was normal. For me anyway. Grandpa never mentioned anything was off, so I assumed her spiteful words were simply my mother’s way of making me tough. Goading me to be able to compete against successful rivals I’d come up against in my life. But after a while, I learned I didn’t want to compete. And if I wasn’t going to be good enough for the important people in my life, I’d keep them out.”

“Push them away,” I interject.

“Yes.” Removing his hands from his pockets, he comes over to sit at the edge of the bed beside me. “But seeing you at school and not being close was killing me.” He nods toward the box. “They were my attempt to get close to you. My only physical connection to you that year.”

Running my fingertips over the items within the box, I peer up at him, steeling myself not to cry again. It’s all me. It holds every moment he used to get close to me.