Page 52 of The Gathered Fragments of Us
"We did. And Felicity—" He turned fully toward me now, his eyes intense. "I need you to know something. This isn't guilt. This isn't me trying to buy my way out of the mess I made. It's me trying to show you how special you are. That I was wrong. That I should have been giving you special things all along, showing you how essential you are."
I touched the locket at my throat again, feeling the weight of it against my skin. "Can I tell you something? About the purse versus this?"
He nodded, waiting.
"The purse—" I paused, trying to find the right words. "It was beautiful. It was something I'd wanted. But it was just a thing, Caden."
I paused to gather myself. "You bought it because I told you exactly what to get. But that's all you did—buy it. You checked a box and moved on. And honestly, after last year's Saks gift card? I was bracing for worse."
His flinched slightly and his face fell, but he didn't look away.
"I know I never said anything. I should have. But part of me wanted to see if you'd notice the disappointment on your own. You didn’t. And that kind of broke my heart."
"Felicity—"
"I’m not done," I said, holding up a hand. "I need to say this."
"This—" I lifted the locket slightly, feeling its weight. "The locket isn't about money. It’s the kind of gift that says, ‘I know you.’ Every detail—from the design to the photo, to the engraving—it says you thought about me. You thought about the things that make me feel loved and you made it into something I will wear forever."
Tears were rolling down my face, but I pushed through. "The purse said, 'I bought you something you wanted.' This locket says, 'I see you.' The donation and volunteering say you see what I value. The idea that Macy has a menu of things for me to look at also tells me that she is thoughtful and wants me to know that I matter."
Caden's eyes had filled with tears too. "God, Felicity, I'm so sorry it took me so long to understand that."
"That's what I was trying to tell you that night when I was so upset. I told you then—it was never about the purse alone. Itwas about feeling like a transaction instead of like someone you love. Like you were purchasing my happiness instead of actually caring about it."
I shifted closer to him. "This locket—I can feel how much thought went into it. I can feel you and Macy talking about what would make me smile, what would remind me every day that I'm cherished. That's what I was missing. Not expensive gifts—though they don't hurt!" I smiled. "It's evidence that I'm in your thoughts in a way that matters."
"I do think about you," he said softly. "I think about you all the time. I just—I got so focused on the company that I forgot about connecting."
"I know that now. I think what I want to see though, is that it's sustained too. That this isn't just a passing moment on the road to forgiveness that will later be forgotten."
"I've been thinking about what you said. About feeling buried under my stuff, about me not really seeing you. And you're right. I got so caught up in providing for us, in building this life, that I forgot to actually live in it with you."
He reached toward me, then stopped, his hand hovering in the space between us. "Can I—?"
I nodded, and he moved closer, taking my hands in his. His palms were warm, slight calluses, familiar in a way that made my chest ache.
"I don't want to just be two people who happen to live in the same house," he said. "I want to be partners again. I want to be the couple who stays up too late talking, who makes each other laugh until our stomachs hurt, who actually sees each other every morning over coffee."
"I want that too," I whispered. "But Caden, I need you to understand—this isn't something that gets fixed with one conversation. Or one beautiful gift, as perfect as it is."
"I know." He squeezed my hands gently. "I'm not expecting everything to turn back time. I get that isn't possible. I'm just asking for the chance to show you, day by day, that I heard you. That I'm committed to doing the work."
I studied his face, looking for any sign of the dismissiveness that had become so familiar over the past few months. Instead, I saw fear, hope, determination, and something I'd almost forgotten—the man I'd fallen in love with all those years ago.
"Okay," I said finally. "But I have conditions."
"Name them."
"First, I want to move back into our bedroom, but I'm not ready for us to be intimate yet. I want to lie next to you, and I really, really want our bed back. I think we need to buy a new bed for the guest room because it is absolutely terrible on the back." I laughed but then sobered. "I still need to take this slow."
He nodded immediately. "Yes. Absolutely—to everything. Whatever timeline you need. Can I hold you though—in bed?"
I thought for a minute. Realized that I really missed his arms around me. The intimacy of being held. I am a cuddler. It's eye-opening how hard it is to be untouched for so long and how lonely it feels. "Yes. But that's our line, okay?"
At his nod, I continued. "Second, we're still doing counseling. Both of us, together. This is not a way out of that."
"Agreed. Completely. I've already researched three therapists," he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. "I thought I wouldcall them today and see if they are accepting new patients. If they are, then we can figure out together where we want to land."
