Page 130 of Eternally Yours
“I’ve been trying to get myself ready for how much it’s going to change my life, mentally and physically. I downloaded a pregnancy tracker on my phone to see the progress since I don’t want any direct contact with the mother. The app and medical records through my lawyer are the only updates I get.” If I had my way, I’d never have any contact with her, but I know that won’t be possible.
“It’s smart of you to prepare yourself in advance for the changes to come. And it’s completely normal for you to have conflicted emotions about the whole situation, Silas. What you’re going through is a lot, and it’s playing a lot with your personal life. But things will get better. I have no doubt. The dark days won’t last forever.”
I go home with a sense of determination. My mom’s right, I need to give my wife more space to figure things out on her own. But I won’t back off without telling her exactly how I feel.
I’m wandering around the house, going from room to room. Looking for inspiration on a way to get through to Cecilia at the same time as giving her what she wants. It has to be something she can hold on to, something that can stay with her until she’s ready to come back to me.
I enter our home library and look at all her books still up on the shelves. I’m gliding my finger along the spine of each one when my eyes widen, and it finally hits me.
I know what I need to do.
~ Two Days Later ~
“Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?” I stop Clay on his way out after practice.
“I have nothing to say to you, Hayes.” He tries to sidestep me, but I grab his arm. He turns and glares at me instantly, lasers shooting out of his eyes.
“It will only be a second.”
His jaw works as he studies me, then drops his duffle bag to the ground. He steps aside so we’re out of the way from other people trying to get by. “Talk and make it quick.”
I reach into the side pocket of my bag and pull out a black envelope with Cecilia’s name on the front. Inside is a letter I wrote two days ago after visiting my mom. It might be cheesy, but I know how my wife feels about this particular gesture.
She once stated that love letters had to be one of the most romantic ways to show your love to someone. That flowers and gifts will end up dying or breaking, but a letter can last a lifetime if well preserved. So I did the only thing I could, I wrote her our very own love letter.
I hand it over to Clay, but he doesn’t take it. “Can you give this to her, it’s all I want. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“I’m not giving her that. She’s finally more stable, I won’t give her something to break her down all over again.” He goes to pick up his bag, but I kick it out of the way despite its weight.
He returns to his full height and balls his hands into fists. “Don’t test me right now, Silas.”
“Look, I’m not trying to start shit, the last thing I want is to cause her any more pain. I just need to give her this, that’s all. After that, I’m backing off and giving her space.” I pass my free hand through my hair, the words tasting like acid in my mouth.
“I get it, okay? You’re pissed at me. I fucked up, and I know I should have listened to you that night. Now my life is falling apart, and I’m losing everything that’s important to me. It’s something I’ll hate myself over for the rest of my life.” I sigh exhaustedly, flapping my arms at my sides.
“But Jesus, Clay. Put yourself in my shoes. If this were happening to you and Morgan, tell me you wouldn’t do everything in your power to win her back? Would you seriously just back off and give up? Or would you keep fighting until you had no more moves left?” I watch as he works his jaw but still refuses to say anything.
“Because that’s what I’m doing, man. I’m fucking fighting. I love my wife more than anything in this world, and I’ll never let her go, even if she begs. It might be selfish of me, but it’s the truth.” I sense myself getting emotional in front of him, but I really couldn’t care less. I’m desperate.
All he does is look at me for a good minute. I begin to sweat under his scrutiny, rubbing my hands on the side of my pants.Come on, Clay. Take the damn envelope.I know I have other ways of getting it to her, but I was hoping that by going through him, he would see how hard I’m trying to fix things with Minnie.
Finally, after what feels like forever, he extends his hand and signals for me to pass the envelope. I hand it over and lift the strap of my duffle bag higher on my shoulder. “Thanks, I really appreciate it.”
I rock back on my heels, not sure where to go from here. Clay picks up his bag and turns to leave, taking a few steps toward the exit, then stops but doesn’t turn around. “You wanna grab a beer or something? The girls are at the spa, we can go back to my place.”
My eyes widen at his invitation. I was hoping it would smooth things out between us, yes, but I didn’t expect this. “I don’t drink anymore, and it’s still morning.” It’s all I can think of saying.
“Fucking hell, Silas. I’m offering you a freaking olive branch! Take it or leave it, but it’s the only one you’re getting,” he says, shaking his head, then looking up at the ceiling like I’m exhausting him.
“Okay, yeah. I’m coming.” I hurry up and match his speed as we continue to walk out in silence.
“You really haven’t drunk since?” he asks after a while.
“Not one drop.”
He watches me from the side, assessing if I’m being honest. Which I am. “Hmm...” He pats me on the shoulders. “I’m proud of you.”
And somehow just that little comment takes some weight off my shoulder.
