Page 43 of Sacrifice
The afternoon light pours in through the windows. The bank is bustling, patrons going in and out, men sitting behind large desks and laughing loudly from the offices lining the walls.
I drag my phone out of my purse and send a text to Olivia. I hate being away from Ever, but I have to do this, and I need to know she’s okay. Her response is immediate:
Olivia: She’s coloring and watching cartoons. Everything’s fine.
If only.
My hands shake as a man announces my name from a doorway. I drop the phone into my bag and stand, smoothing my shirt. I try to smile back at him, but I’m sure it’s a grimace.
I follow him through the door and down a long hallway. Each step gives me another moment to rethink my decision. I fight the urge to run from the building and jump in my car. I want to leave. Idesperatelywant to leave. But I know the solution to a few of my problems is here and I have to go through with this.
I sign a book while he unlocks a large, steel door. Once inside, I sign another book and show him my ID.
“Once you’re finished, just press this button,” he says, pointing at the wall, “and someone will escort you out.”
I nod and thank him. He leaves, letting the door shut tightly behind him.
The room is large with steel boxes lining three of the four walls. It smells cold and I shiver, probably more from my anxiety than from the actual temperature. Letting the stagnant air fill my lungs, I walk around the table in the center of the room and find box 7285.
I’ve only been in this room once before. Today, it’s time to redo why I was here the first time.
Slipping the key out of my pocket, I unlock the box and pull the drawer out. My hands are trembling, the box shaking, as I remove it from the wall. I sit it on the table behind me and take a step back.
I’ve never really looked inside.
Gage got the safety deposit box soon after we were married. I know our marriage license is in here, as well as a few things of his mother’s that he didn’t want to lose. But that’s all I know. Last time, I just dropped my wedding ring inside and left.
I pull out a chair and sit. I look around the room and wonder if someone is watching me. I’m sure they’re taping this and it feels like I’m being spied on, like someone is privy to such an intimate moment. I want to flip them the bird and have a little meltdown for all of them to see. Strangely, it seems like a cathartic option at the moment.
I don’t want to do this, but I don’t see another choice. Crew was right when he said I have to stop fighting everything. Everleigh is my only priority right now. And as much as this is going to rip me in half, I know Gage would understand. He always said we’d do anything we had to in order to make sure Ever had a better life than we did.
He’d understand.
The lump in my throat that seems to be permanently lodged there starts to burn as my hands make their way to the sides of the box. A baggie is laid on top and I remove it. I open the top and let the contents fall to the table.
A locket that belonged to Gage’s mom reflects the lights above. A couple of old coins roll around before spinning and stopping. There are two old Polaroid-style pictures of Gage and Crew from when they were kids. In one, they’re at the beach, probably seven or eight years old, Crew giving Gage bunny ears. In the other, it appears to be Christmas morning and they’re both asleep in the middle of a wrapping-paper mess. They’re adorable, all tousled hair and sweet faces. They remind me of Everleigh, and I press a gentle kiss against them before sitting them aside.
I pull out a couple of concert tickets. Beneath that is a picture from our very first date. My eyes water heavily at the sight of us. I’m looking at him through the corner of my eye and he’s smiling at the camera, his hand protectively around my waist.
I spot my ring and start to reach for it when I see an envelope. My breath hitches in my throat when I see “To Jules” written in Gage’s handwriting on the front.
A cold chill tears through me. My mouth hanging open, a shiver racing down my spine, I pull the envelope out of the box and run my finger along the writing. A single tear lazily drops down my cheek.
The envelope is dry from sitting inside the box for God knows how long. Carefully, I turn it over and open the unsealed back. A single piece of paper is folded inside. I remove it, my heart pounding, and unfold it slowly.
Dear Jules,
I ran by here today to drop off a few things and I decided to jot down a note to you. I’ve been thinking about my ma a lot. Probably because baseball season is starting and she would’ve been all over the Red Sox this year. They’re gonna be good, I think. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about something she said to me once. She said that when my dad left her when she was pregnant with Crew, the worst part about it was not knowing what to do. He had taken care of everything and then just took off. She had no idea how to even deal. It made me think—if something happened to me, would you know what to do? I try to protect you from everything and make your life as easy as I can. And I hope to hell you never have to live without me, but things happen, you know? What won’t happen is me leaving you willingly. You’re my world.
But if something does happen, I want you to remember a few things. First of all, always remember I love you. Always. And if we have children, remind them that I love them, too. I haven’t met them yet, but I can imagine seeing a little me and you. Also, make sure they’re Sox fans.
Don’t be scared. I know that’s easier said than done, but don’t be. You are so much stronger than you even know. Your strength inspires me every day. You’ll figure things out.
There’s a picture in here of Crew and me. We’re at the beach and the bastard is giving me those stupid bunny ears. That picture was taken one morning when we decided to go swimming at the beach with Will and another kid whose name I don’t remember. Later that day, Crew and I bought lunch. He wanted another ice cream and I wouldn’t give him the money for it because we needed it to get home. He got really mad at me and wouldn’t speak to me for hours after that. Typical, I know.
Anyway, I’m out swimming in the ocean with Will and the other kid when I start to get pulled under and out. I remember seeing the light through the water above me, my chest burning, needing oxygen. I’d come up but not even long enough to yell for help. I was just being tossed around like a ball. Finally, I come up long enough to see Will and the other guy, but they’re standing on the beach. They’re pointing towards me but neither are coming my way. And I know I’m done. My arms and legs are getting tired, my head feels heavy, my chest is burning. I’m choking on the saltwater. And then I feel something grab my leg. I remember thinking that at least death by shark will be faster than drowning. And then an arm wraps around my waist and pulls me up. I get to the top of the water and my little brother is shaking me, telling me to “man up” of all things.
He helps me back to shore and I puke up a gallon of seawater, but I’m okay. Crew probably saved my life that day.
