Page 93 of The Gathered Fragments of Us
I placed my hand over his, leaning into his touch. "The iron quote—it's beautiful. Caden..."
"Yes, love?"
"This whole garden transformation, the thoughtfulness behind every detail—it's showing me who you really are when you're present. When you're focused on us." I gestured around at the fairy lights twinkling above us. "This is the man I fell in love with. The one who notices details and creates magic."
"I want to be that man every day, not just when I'm making up for mistakes."
"I know you do. And I can see that you're trying." I looked down at the iron plaque again, then back at his face. "I need you to actually embody these words. I need you to know that it's about being worth your thoughts. Worth your time. Worth your love."
"You are. You are worth more than all of it combined, Felicity."
I stood up and walked a few steps away, taking in the full scope of what he'd created here. The path that connected every corner of my garden, the lights that transformed it into something magical, the cedar arbor that welcomed us into this sacred space. Then I turned back to him.
"Caden, I need to tell you something that I've been thinking about since Miami."
He waited, patient and attentive.
"When I was on that trip—sitting on the beach by myself, touring the city alone, and celebrating my birthday with strangers...awesome strangers though. One day, I'll tell you all about the. I digress though—in all of that—I realized that I'd forgotten how to be happy. Not just content or okay, but actually a happy person. That's not on you. That's on me." I sat back down beside him. "It's not your job to make me a happy person. It's my job to do that. It's your job not to get in the way of it. It's your job, as my husband, to give me joyful moments and memories. Just as it's my job to do the same for you. But my happiness, and how I feel about myself, that isn't contingent on you and shouldn't be."
"That said, you lost sight of me in the last few years—on some of my needs and my wants. But I also recognize that you weren'tneverthere. You just missed the things that should have beenbig moments in our lives. That lack of attention contributed to my own lack of focus on myself. So, I stopped talking. I didn't tell you when things weren't well with my soul. I expected you to notice and change."
Caden gave me the space to think and to continue on, so I did. "I listened to this podcast recently about expecting versus hoping—essentially that expectations, even with communication, will likely end in disappointment. Hope, with or without communication, can go either way but ultimately won't ruin you when things don't pan out."
I paused and let the silence sit between us again, giving weight to the moment. "Caden, I want for us to work, and I want to forgive you—I do forgive you. I didn't fall out of love with you because you stopped celebrating us, but I did lose a piece of my joy." I turned my body so one leg was hiked up on the bench and the other foot rested on the ground.
"What you did here," I said, motioning all around us, "this gives me joy again. Real, honest joy. I have a ways to go to find my happiness, but this—this makes me see that you and I are not done." I reached for his hand. "I'm choosing you, Caden, one more day. I say one more day because I truly believe you will continue to work on us every day. In return, I will commit to telling you when things aren't right with me, when I'm not feeling seen or valued. If things get tough with work, bring me along for the ride—or at least invite me and let me choose if I can handle it or not. Fair?"
Caden leaned forward and buried his face in the crook of my neck. "Felicity, it is more than fair. I will do anything and everything in my power to never stop showing you that you are valued in every inch of my heart."
As we sat there, embracing one another—just holding on in the stillness of the evening—a gentle breeze stirred the lights above us, making them dance in the darkness. The iron plaque caught the light, the engraved words seeming to shine with promise. This garden had been my refuge when I needed it most, but now it was something more—it was ours. A place where we'd chosen each other, where we'd committed to building something beautiful together.
"So," I said, settling more comfortably against his side, "what's our next adventure going to be?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, we've got this beautiful garden, we're talking honestly with each other, we're making plans for the future. What do we want to do next?"
Caden was quiet for a moment, then smiled. "I have some ideas—one of which was already planned, so while I want to plan things with you as partners, this one has to be exempt," he said, turning the smile into the sweetest, most boyish grin.
"Okay, Sir Mystery—you can keep your plans." I leaned back into our embrace, enchanted by the scents in the air mingling with his own. This. This finally felt like home.
Above us, the fairy lights continued their gentle dance, and somewhere in the distance, I could hear the quiet hum of tomorrow's possibilities already beginning to charge. I knew we were on the mend, but we weren't finished yet—there was still work ahead. And not all of it would be easy. Jessica lingered at the edges of my mind, like a storm cloud you keep watching on the horizon, unsure when it will break. I tightened my hold on Caden, choosing—for tonight at least—to focus on the warmth of his arms and the promise of what we were building together.
Chapter 37: Call Declined
~Caden~
It was early when I heard the buzz from my phone on the counter. Sunday tradition called for fried egg sandwiches—the ones with the oozing warm yolk, hot cheese (that isn't really cheese, but we don't talk about it), and slice of ham or bacon. Felicity was still upstairs, but as soon as I heard her milling about and getting in the shower, I put that griddle on the heat.
I reached for my phone—no caller listed. Weird. I answered though. With everything happening these days, I was almost afraid to screen my calls and miss something important.
As soon as I answered, I heard a long beep and then "This is a call from Jessica Jensen at MCI-Framingham. This call is from a correctional facility and may be monitored and recorded. To accept this call, press 1. To decline this call, press 2 or hang up."
I pulled my phone away from my ear. What the fuck. Do I answer? Hang up?
I thought of everything that's happened in the last week. We don't owe her shit. I hit the #2 on the screen dial pad and hung up.
I opened a text message and sent a quick note to my attorney, David.
