Page 44 of Sacrifice
I’m telling this to you for a reason, babe. I know you and Crew don’t always see eye to eye and I know you don’t think much of him sometimes. I know he’s hurt you and he can be an unpredictable prick. But I also know this—he’s never let me down when I’ve needed him. So, if God forbid, something does happen to me, please trust Crew. He’ll be there for you. Right now, he has some growing up to do, I know, but he’ll do what has to be done. There’s no one in this world who I would trust more than Crew to take care of you. He’s my brother. He’s your family.
Have a happy life. I want you to enjoy things and smile and laugh. I don’t want you to try to do everything on your own, like I know you try to do. I don’t want you to be miserable or hold back and feel guilty for living. I want you to promise me that you’ll live with no regrets. That you’ll do what you have to do to have a good life. Don’t feel bad for any decisions or choices you make. I know your heart and your soul. I’ll support you 100% (unless you make our theoretical children Yankees fans).
I must get back to work. I hope I’ve just wasted twenty minutes writing this and I show it to you some day when we’re eighty and we laugh at how dumb I am. I’m making cheesecake tonight. I hope you like it.
Love, Gage
I pressthe paper to my chest and fix my gaze on the wall of boxes in front of me. It feels like he’s in the room with me and I don’t want to lose the moment. I want to hold on to this feeling of being safe and loved, to the memories, for as long as possible.
I hear the paper crackle in my hands and I pull it away from my body, realizing that I’ve been squeezing it too hard. I read it again, hearing his voice inside my head, and I know what I have to do.
* * *
JULIA
“Don’t feelbad for any choices or decisions you have to make.”
My palms are sweaty and I wipe them on my jeans. An old country song is playing through the speakers as I pass the lines of yard equipment on the floor of the shop. A long glass counter lines the side wall, guns lined up neatly against the wall behind it.
An old man is sitting at the end, drinking a cup of coffee. He pays me no attention and continues to work his crossword puzzle.
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and look for someone else to help me. The shop is empty.
“Excuse me?” I ask, my voice wobbling. He glances up but doesn’t say anything. “Can you help me?”
He stands up and sets his pencil down. “What can I do for ya, miss?”
“I have this,” I say, making my way to the counter. I place my wedding ring on the glass, the clinking sound seeming so much louder than it probably is.
“Is this yours?”
I nod, batting back the tightness in my throat. “Where’d ya get it?”
“It was my wedding ring.”
I almost can’t do it. A surge of panic hits me hard and I straighten my back and look him in the eye, hoping I appear more confident than I feel.
“You want to pawn it or sell it?” He sets the ring down and braces himself against the counter. He seems curious, but I don’t want to discuss anything with him. I want to get this over with.
“Well, there’s no way I’m going to be able to buy it back, so sell it, I guess.” My voice breaks a little on the final word and I clench my teeth. This has to be done. I need the money.
“If you sell it, it’s mine. You realize that, right?”
I nod again, not trusting myself to speak. I try to force the ball of tears in the back of my throat to dissolve.
He sighs. “I can give you five hundred.”
I feel all hope drain from my body like an open sieve. Pawning my wedding ring, the most precious thing I own, is my last resort to keeping us afloat. $500 isn’t going to get me far.
But it’s ahead of where you are now.
“Can I ask you something?” He takes his glasses off and sets them down. “Why are you pawning this? Did you get divorced?”
“My, um . . .” I watch the hands of a clock tick between two guns behind his head. I can hear the secondhand tick softly; it’s almost hypnotic. “Um, my husband passed away and I need the cash.”
“For a vacation or something?” His forehead is wrinkled, his eyes narrowed.
I snort at the insinuation.
