Page 6 of Come Back To Me
I’ve turned the whole house apart, looking for more hidden gifts and any evidence left from my late husband’s supposed affair. I thought we were happy. Sure, we were going through a rough patch, but what couple doesn’t?
Turns out the happiness was one-sided. What did that other guy give him that I couldn’t? I breathe in and out deeply, scrubbing a hand over my face. He probably never cheated. There was probably never anyone else. But the very words raised suspicion inside me that felt like something I kept pushing down.
I still don’t want to believe it. I twist my wedding band on my finger and lower myself onto the couch, staring at the last giftGareth gave me. It was a music box. The song it plays is the one we danced to at our wedding. My heart falls when I remember what he said when he turned the key on the back. “Songs shared between two people are reminders of what one means to the other. There’s so much said in them that we can’t always express with our own words.”
Was he going to say the same thing to the man he was having an affair with when he gave him the snow globe?
My throat tightens, an ugly sensation crawling over my skin, and I pick up the music box, running my fingers over the engraved message at the bottom.
“There’s no other place I want to be but with you.”
I turn the key, my breaths shaking, as tears well in my eyes. My throat tightens and I hold the music box tighter, slamming the top down when it gets too hard to watch the two men inside dance together. I set it down and look toward the garage. Curiosity killed the cat, didn’t it?
I should let it go. It doesn’t matter anymore. He can’t be with either one of us now. My feet grip the floor and I lift myself off the couch with all the strength my hands can provide. The short walk feels like the longest walk of my life. Everything is so heavy. My feet. The garage door. The gift bag I snatch from Gareth’s toolbox.
I reach into the tissue paper, lifting the snow globe slowly before turning it over . . . and sure enough, there it is. An engraved message.
“I’ll always leave the light on for you, even if it’s just as a friend.”
I play the song again, and I do know this song. I’ve heard it before on the radio and again in . . . in here when Gareth was working on his car. He bought older ones to fix up. Sometimes he sold them and others he kept for himself. He kind of sloweddown when he took the new position at work . . . or when he started fucking someone else.
The snow globe rolls out of my hand, crashing onto the ground when someone knocks on the door. I look back and then wipe the liquid onto my jeans, cursing under my breath. There’s glass everywhere. On my shoes too. I shake them off to keep from tracking glass into the house as I rush to open the door. As I pull it open, I straighten my back when a man in a cop uniform turns around to face me. He’s holding a plastic baggy in his hand. The large white label in front makes it hard for me to see what it is.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi. Mr. Vega?”
“Yeah. That’s me.”
He nods, smiling. “Mr. Vega, I’m Officer Seymore. I’m here because we’ve recovered your husband’s phone from the scene of the accident.”
My eyes fall to his hands again and the muscles in my cheeks tick. “Oh. You found it. Good. I was worried it’d be shattered into a million pieces and buried by animals by now.”
He laughs halfheartedly, shaking his head. “No. It was found by a morning jogger. I thought I’d come by and return it to you.”
“Thank you.” I reach for the bag and his fingers graze mine, his eyes sparking something in them.
“You’re very welcome. Oh, and by the way, you should really get that window fixed.” He points to the slanted screen and jammed window I’m unable to close anymore. “There’s a lot of crazies out there. I’d hate for someone to walk by one night and see it as an invitation to rob you.”
“Ah, yeah.” I rub the back of my head. “Just haven’t gotten around to it. Turns out it’s super expensive when your husband dies. So not only do I get to grieve his death, but I also get to go into debt.”
“Yeah. I feel ya.” His eyes are sympathetic. “I lost my husband a year ago. Doesn’t get easier, so you won’t hear me saying it does.”
“Finally. Someone being honest.”
“Yeah. I know I appreciated it when I finally had someone lay it on me straight and not sugar-coat shit for me.” Pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve heard a cop curse while on duty.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“There are some good books out there that really helped me. You’re welcome to them. I don’t need them anymore.”
“I . . . you don’t have to do that. I doubt I’ll have much time to read once I’m back at work anyway.”
“Well, the offer still stands if you change your mind. Here’s my card in case you need anything else. I patrol this area regularly and I’m pretty good at fixing things like windows.”
Is he flirting? No. Probably just being nice to me because he knows I’m going through a hard time. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be okay.”
“I don’t mind.” He stretches his neck, looking at the window before his eyes fall back to me. “Doesn’t look like it’ll take long, and like I said, I’ll be in the area.”
