Page 60 of All In
“I got it!” She grabs the one she was searching for and shakes it as she stands to face me. “This one is my personal favorite. Especially since you wrote it just six hours ago.”
I step toward her to grab the email, and she yanks her arm away, moving from me as she does. The crunch of Maria’s letters coming from underneath her feet.
She gives me a piercing glare, then reads. “It says, although, you already know this,‘Do you think about what could have been? Or is it just me?’”She peers at me with furrowed brows and eyes brimming with tears. “And of course, let’s not skip her reply. Let’s see what she says in return, shall we? But again, you already know.” The snarky side of her personality is coming out in full force. “She says,‘I do. I think about it every day.’”
“We aren’t married anymore, Erica. What I wrote in an email hours ago is none of your business.” I know it’s a weak defense. I know. But I need to say something. Anything.
She takes two determined steps towards me. We are face to face now. Her chest is heaving from anger. “What about the others, Sam? Hm?” She cocks her head to the side. “The emails you wrote to her while we weremarried?What about those?”
I can’t look her in the eye because she’s right. With a heavy heart, I turn my head up to the ceiling and release a long, weary breath.
She shakes her head in disbelief, crinkles the email up, and heaves it onto the bed. It lands right next to the black velvet box. Erica whips the ring box off of the gray comforter and grabs my wrist, shoving it into my hand. “Here, take it. This shouldn’t be tucked away in a shoebox under a bed. Go give this to the love of your life. I’m sure she thinks about you every day!!”
With that, she steps around me, grabs the doorknob, and yanks the door open as it slams against the wall. She storms out of the room and starts making her way into the kitchen. I open the box, and the ring is staring back at me. Relief floods my body.
It’s still here.
I couldn’t part with it. The ring I went into debt for, just because of how Maria looked at it that day in the mall. The one I never had the chance to give her.
The box snaps shut as I close it. Setting the ring box down on the bed with a groan, I take a second to scan the floor. Sixteen years of letters and emails litter the carpet. Taking a brief moment to regain my composure, I am immediately greeted by the sound of glasses clashing and the pouring of liquid.
Marching into the kitchen. I’m ready to deal with this once and for all. Not just the letters and Maria, but Erica's drinking. Her love of the bottle ended our marriage. Yes, I shouldn’t have been communicating with Maria. That’s on me. But even if Maria wasn’t in the picture, I know for a fact that our marriage would have ended. Erica always chose booze over Mikey and me.
I stand there and watch her fill a rocks glass with whiskey, a healthy four finger pour, and down it like it’s water. She unscrews the cap of the whiskey and before she has a second to pour, I grab the glass.
“You are not having any more to drink. We need to talk about this.” Her large purse sits open next to the bottle. Which means she brought this with her. Since I don’t trust her, I never keep alcohol in the house.
“Okay, great,” she slaps her hands down on the small kitchen island. “Let’s talk about it. Who in the heck is Cara?” Her eyes are wide and wild, and her hands are shaking.
This is what she wants to begin with? This woman will always confuse me.
“I dated Cara off and on after Maria and I broke up.” She bobs her head, taking in the information she is hearing for the first time.
“Why didn’t you tell me about her?”
“Seriously, Erica? This is about Cara? After what you found, you want to talk about a relationship that didn’t pan out?”
She leans over the counter and looks me square in the eye. The closer she gets, the more I can smell the whiskey on her breath. “I want to talk about everything,” she says through gritted teeth. She pulls back. “Did you love her?”
“Who? Cara?” She nods. I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to soothe the headache I can feel coming on. “On some level, yeah, I guess I did.”
“But not as much as you loved Maria.” She raises an eyebrow.
“No. Not as much as Maria.”
We stand on either side of the island, squaring off, neither one of us talking. I take her in. The rise and fall of her chest, her dilated pupils, her thinner frame, and her pale skin. She is a far cry from the woman that captivated me that day in the brewery. The one who made me want to throw caution to the wind and make an impulsive life choice that I am now deeply regretting.
“Did you love me as much as you loved Maria?” There it is, the million-dollar question. The words come out soft, as if it pained her to ask it. More than likely, it did. Her years’ worth of insecurities about Maria bubble to the surface with that question.
I lower my head and shake it in disbelief because if I give her the answer she is searching for, she won’t like it. So, I deflect. “How did you know that box was under the bed?”
She throws her hands up in the air. “That’s the answer to my question? Come on, Sam.” I don’t say anything in reply.
She rounds the island and marches into the living room. I follow her, the smell of alcohol lingering in her wake. She turns to face me, hands on her hips. “Fine. I saw you putting papers in it a few months back. I decided to leave it alone. Give you your privacy since we aren’t married anymore.
“But something ate away at me. My gut was telling me I should look. So once I got here tonight, I got up enough nerve and, well … let’s just say I was blown away.” She pauses. “You always told me that she was your first love. Which is fine. But you didn’t tell me you proposed.”
“I didn’t. She broke up with me the night I had planned on asking. And why does this matter now, Erica?”
