“I know, but I needed to.”
I look at him closer then. There’s no expectation on his face. No waiting for praise. No assumption that this earned him anything. Just regret.
“That was yours,” I say finally. “Those cards. They were gifts given, memories created. I never expected or wanted you to give those away; those were yours.”
His mouth pulls into something that isn’t quite a smile. “Not more than you were, or the life we were building,” he states, gaze boring into me.
I look away first because this is entering dangerous territory.
“Look, Sam … the postnup was just the first thing I could grab when everything blew up.” I swallow, forcing myself to hold his eyes this time. “It wasn’t the end of it. It was just … the fastest way to protect myself.” My fingers curl slightly at my sides. “Right now, I can’t even think past that. I can’t think about us or what this is going to be. I can only focus on making sure I’m okay on my own.”
Because if I let myself think about anything beyond that—about us, about staying—I might break. And I don’t have time to break right now, damnit.
I take a breath. “So yeah. I’m separating everything. Business, personal accounts … all of it.”
Sam’s jaw drops slightly before he gathers himself. “I … uh. Okay, whatever you need. All that matters to me is that you feel safe, even if that means it’s not with me right now. And if tying yourself to me financially makes you feel that way, let me know what you need to get yourself out of that. I will show up at whatever bank’s office I need and sign whatever you ask.”
I didn’t expect him to agree so quickly. I dart my eyes around the site, trying to avoid his attention when I spot something. A small box of backsplash tile, way too early for this site.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to the box.
Sam scratches his neck, avoiding eye contact. “It’s, uh, for the cabin. I remember a while back you pointed out some backsplash you liked while we were at the hardware store. I saw it was on sale and bought a box, which should be enough for the kitchen and bathroom.”
Not sure how to feel at that revelation, I grab the box Sam hands to me. Inside, there is a small note sticking out. I grab it, looking up at Sam briefly, arching my brow.
“I, uh, leave notes on job sites sometimes, build notes. Things I need to communicate to the next owner, or reminders on what I don’t want to mess up. Figured I should focus on building what I messed up.”
I push the note back in the box with a nod, not ready to read it yet. We walk to my car together. As I open my door, Sam pulls it wider, waiting for me to sit down.
“Thank you for stopping by, seeing you will always be the highlight of my day,” he says with a gentle smile.
And despite everything, I don’t doubt him. Love, attraction, and fun were never a problem in our relationship. I have never questioned our bond, just how we approached life.
“Uh, thank you for the radishes; they were picked at theright time. The carrots need to be pulled soon too—don't let them go too long or they'll split.”
“Of course, I am on it.” He buckles me in, kisses my forehead, and tells me I’m precious cargo, as always. And once again, it makes my stomach flip, and I make sure to tamp that down.
I get back to the Rothschilds’ and take Bernie for a walk around the block. After we return and he gets his obligatory ten-minute ear scratch and cuddle, I open the tile box. Of course, he remembered the tile I picked out offhandedly. He was always great at picking up on these things. I set the tile aside and read the build note.
Holly and Mandy aren’t you. They never were. I said “favorite girls” like an idiot. They’re kids to me. Loud, messy, still figuring it out. You’ve never been that. You’re my wife. I should have never called them my favorite anything. But to me, you are in a different category of your own.
I fold it carefully, more carefully than I mean to, and tuck it back into the box. My eyes sting. But I don’t let the tears fall, not yet.
15
BECCA
Capricorn
A surprise encounter may test your boundaries today. Not everyone from your past is your enemy. Allow yourself to be protected. The future doesn’t have to look like the past—if you're brave enough to believe people can change.
It’s been two weeks since Sam’s first deposit. Not the kind of time that heals anything, but enough time for habits to show. The deposits haven’t stopped. They’re smaller now, less dramatic. But they are consistent. $487.12. $320. $1,050.
Always followed by an updated spreadsheet. This week, there’s a note at the top:
Phone plan renegotiated—$32/month savings
Supplier rebate increased—+$325 (applied to account)
