Page 91 of The Gathered Fragments of Us
I nodded, clearing my throat, not trusting my voice. Together, we stepped onto the new path, and it was so solid and firm as we walked.
"I know this space means a lot to you," Caden said as we walked slowly toward the center of the garden. He paused and brought me around by the hand to stand in front of him. He lifted his head to look around us. "You built this when you neededsomething that I wasn't giving you. When I was working and focused on things that weren't you."
I squeezed his hand, remembering those long, lonely months that Spring as I had moved to set my garden up—I'd never done anything like it before. "I needed something different—new. I spent hours at the local nursery, annoying the owner with every question under the sun, but she was so kind and answered everything I brought to her."
He smiled—small and sad, "I'm so sorry you had to create this beautiful space alone, and learn all of this without me by your side." His voice caught slightly.
In front of us was the herb garden, where lavender and rosemary released their scents into the evening air. The fairy lights made everything look magical, it actually felt like a dream.
"But in that loneliness, you created this beautiful sanctuary. You are the architect of something that was meant to console you in your pain."
I leaned into his side, overwhelmed by the emotion in his voice. "It helped me do something productive in that year. Gave me somewhere to put all the energy, so much so that I could honestly say that first year wasn't so hard for me. This place wasn't a place of loneliness by the end. It was a place of joy for me."
"I know. And that's why..." He gestured to the transformation around us. "I wanted to honor what you built here, but also give you new memories. I wanted to take this space that was born from a dark time for us, that you turned to joy, and I wanted to show you how I see you—to give you something that recognizes what this place has come to mean to you."
As we continued walking, I noticed details I'd missed in my initial enchantment. Solar lights had been installed along the path's edges, subtle enough not to compete with the fairy lights but providing a gentle ground-level glow. There were some new plants too in plots I hadn't filled with anything yet—white flowers that caught the moonlight, and I could smell them—fragrant and beautiful.
"The pavers—they are called Basalite Wood Grain Concrete," he said, a slight smile in his voice. "I know it sounds technical, but I chose it instead of wood for a reason." Instead of finishing that thought, he turned me to face the entrance—fifteen or so feet away now.
"That arbor—it's made of cedar. In some traditions, cedar has different meanings—it can symbolize sanctuary, offering refuge to those who seek it. It can also mean purification and healing—cleansing away negative energy and past pains. And it's enduring enough to weather our harsh New England storms and sun alike."
My eyes widened as his explanation came to a close, and he turned to face me. "It felt like the perfect representation of us. Of our marriage. Of the work I need to put in, but also the future we have and the past I hope to cleanse."
"The reason this is so important in our story isn't just because of the symbolism behind the wood though. You see, wood is the traditional fifth anniversary gift."
Aware now of where he was going with it, I finally caught on to the background on how it all came about.
A little breathless, I said "I see." I left it there, not wanting to interrupt. Feeling like I should hear what he has to say on this—I deserved it.
"I said it the other night, this is my apology tour—starting with our missed anniversaries. I never made it up to you, those failures. And while I apologized, what is an apology with no context or comprehension behind the meaning of the loss you experienced?"
I felt his thumb brush over my knuckles as he continued. "The arbor—the wood in it, as I said, represents so much with regards to our past and our future. What you may not realize though, is that this arbor—while in a different wood—is actually the same design as the one we were married under.
I gasped. "No way."
Caden grinned. "Yes, way. Took me forever to find a photo in all our wedding pics that didn't actually blur it out when the focus was on us—as it should be. Finally, though, I found one. So, the same day you went to Miami, I'd asked Marvin, our carpenter, if he could recreate it—he was all too happy to help.
I walked over to it, marveled at the sight and I was touched by the thought behind it. There was true meaning here—not just an empty gesture.
"So, that's the wood."
I responded, "but the pathway isn't wood though?"
"Exactly," he said.
I looked at him quizzically—"but it looks like wood."
"I know," and he explained. "The pavers look like wood but are actually made of concrete. In time, wood will fade and become weathered." Caden continued, "but I chose concrete pavers because they're what you use for foundations. For building something that will last. I wanted the path itself to representthe foundation we're building for our future. Something solid. Something permanent."
The symbolism hit me like a physical force. Well, shit. I'm going to cry. Damn, he put some thought into all of this.
I stopped walking and turned to face him fully.
"Felicity, in this garden, I'm trying to take something that came out of my own thoughtlessness and offer you pieces of what our future will be—if you let me—one day at a time," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't go back and be the husband you deserved back then. But I can acknowledge what I missed, what I failed to celebrate, and I can make the changes that you deserve—that our marriage deserves."
"Caden..." I was crying in earnest now, but they were good tears. Happy tears. "This is more thoughtful than even I could have imagined myself," I said, laughing through my own sniffles.
"But wait," he said softly and with a wink. "There's more."
