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That’s all I’ve wanted.
Another layer of insecurity peels away when he kisses my lips.
“My shirts and the bedare all yours,” he says, pulling away and running his hands down my arms. “Get some rest, and I’ll have deliciousness coming your way in the morning. And it won’t be too early.”
“Good night.”
He kisses my cheek this time, and my hand reaches out, ready to stop him when he turns to leave, but I don’t. We might be okay right now, but the wounds from today are still fresh. We wouldn’t be able to walk into that bedroom and go to bed after what happened in the cafeteria today. I’d have too many questions, and we’re too tired for it tonight.
I eye the check on the bathroom vanity after he leaves.
Why would his ex-wife’s father give me money?
It doesn’t make any sense. Nothing makes sense anymore.
I go to his dresser and shuffle through a drawer in search of another one of his old high school tees. I embarrassingly hold the shirt to my nose and take in the smell of fabric softener and cheap cologne. I slide it over my head and pull it down to cover my hips, the tee fitting me perfectly.
A yawn escapes me, and I can’t wait to hit the sheets. As I go to shut the drawer, something catches, stopping me. I attempt to push harder. Nothing. I grab an armful of shirts out of the drawer and toss them to the floor next to me.
I find the culprit. It’s an envelope. My hands shake as I pull it out. It’s shredded at the top, and a return address sits on the left from the Cook County Correctional Facility with Missy’s name above it.
Her name is printed at the top with bright pink cursive handwriting—Missy Perry, complete with an Idotted with a heart. I examine the envelope like it has the answer to all my questions, looking at the front and the back, analyzing the swoops in her name.
It'll kill Gage’s trust in me if I do what I’m thinking, but I can’t stop myself. After his ex-father-in-law’s visit, after that man expecting me to know about someone named Andy, after Gage shut down on me yesterday, I need answers, and as much as I want to wait for him to give them to me, it’s like candy sitting in front of me. There’s no beating this temptation, and I only hope he doesn’t hate me when I find out what he’s been hiding.
I grab my phone, deciding to Google his name and Chicago, but then set it back down.
Ugh. What do I do?
I’ll sleep on it. Ask him about it over breakfast tomorrow.
I go to shove the shirts back into the drawer but stop when I notice the stack of pictures and envelopes in the corner. My attention goes straight to the picture at the top of the stack. It’s of Gage with a baby in his arms.
Gage looks happy as he stares down at the baby wrapped in a blue blanket and wearing a blue cap. All the blue leads me to assume it’s a boy. The baby boy doesn’t have Gage’s olive skin tone. His is dark, and his eyes are wide and innocent. There’s no familiarity in looks between them.
I might be able to hold myself back from reading bitch-face Missy’s letter, but there’s no stopping me from flipping through the pictures. I fall back against the dresser, and tears fall down my face. There are photos of him and the baby and photos of Gage and I assume, Missy holding the child up over a birthday cake that saysHappy Second Birthday Andy!There’s another one of them smiling while the boy, now looking a few years older, sits on Santa’s lap. I look through memory after memory of their family … of Gage’s family.
What happened?
The pictures only amplify my curiosity. I’ve already opened Pandora’s box. There’s no turning back now. I pick up the envelope in shame and pull the letter out before I can change my mind.
It’s the same pink writing. The heart trend staying and added to the margins of the lined and wrinkled paper.
I slowly read it, digesting each word.
My dearest Gage, my husband, the man I love,
Why won’t you take my calls? My father says he will pay any collect call bills. I NEED to talk to you, to hear your voice. Why can’t you understand that? I love you. I’d do anything for you. I will never leave you. Please visit me. Write me back. DO SOMETHING! Let me explain myself, so I can tell you why I did what I did and how I realize now that it wasn’t the answer to our problems. I loved our little boy. We can give him a sister or a brother. You know he’d want us to be happy as his mom and dad. Let us remember him as husband and wife. Let us remember the baby boy we rescued years ago. LET ME MAKE THIS RIGHT!!! I am hurting without you, and I’d rather die than not have you in my life. Is that what you want? For me to kill myself?
I love you so, so, so, so much!!!
Your wife,
Missy Perry
(I will ALWAYS be Missy Perry!!!)
There’s one last picture in the envelope.
