My fist clenched around the handle of the mug. I didn't say anything.
"She said there were a few things in there she thought you'd want," my sister told me. "She also said there was a box, and she didn't look inside. She thought it was your own private business."
"Mm." I made a small noise and winced as I took a sip of my too-hot tea to avoid answering.
"Whatever was in there, I know it must have been hard for you," she continued. "When you refused to get in touch with me, I started getting worried."
"I'm fine," I said automatically.
"You broke down into tears at the front door," she reminded me gently.
My face flushed.
"It was—" I struggled to speak through my tight throat. "It was hard. Some of the stuff in there was hard to see. After all these years, I thought I'd healed and moved on. I thought I'd been able to deal with what happened. I thought—"
I halted and pressed my lips together.
"That kind of thing isn't something you can easily move on from," she said. "David's always going to have a place in your heart."
The air whooshed from my lungs, as if the oxygen had been sucked from the room.
"But I think you're lying to yourself," Sheila said.
I shot her a look.
"I don't think you're dealing with David's death at all," she continued.
The swirling, churning ball of acid in my stomach solidified into a heavy, sour lump.
"You don't know what you're talking about," I told her.
"Bree…" she let out a small sigh and put her mug down on the counter. She came over to me and put her hands on my shoulders. "How many cities have you lived in over the last few years? What's the longest you've ever spent in one place?"
"I like to travel," I said, parroting the same excuse I'd used time and time again. "I'm young. I don't have any responsibilities. I'm living life while I can."
"Is that all it is?" she asked, looking into my eyes.
Mason's question echoed in my ears.
What are you running from?
"I needed space," I said, pivoting. "I needed some time and space to deal with everything. To heal."
"And are you?" she asked. "Are you dealing with things? Are you healing?"
"I—" My breath hitched as Mason's face flashed across my vision. "I thought I was. And then—"
The words died in my mouth. My lips trembled. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
"I want you to see something," I told Sheila.
She followed me into the living room. I pointed to the coffee table. The items were small. She went over to examine them closer. She inhaled sharply when she realized what they were.
"Your and David's wedding rings?" she murmured.
I nodded silently.
"I didn't know you'd already bought them," she said quietly.