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When we arrived at the infamous spot, I felt a wave of emotion wash over me. My grandmother’s words echoed in my mind.To be loved passionately and to love passionately is one of the best and scariest feelings a person can experience in their life.
She had lost her passionate love, which hurt my heart because I could only imagine what that felt like. Now that I had Jensen, I couldn’t fathom the thought of losing him. The closest I’d come to it was when he got injured in the storm.
Jensen glanced up and down the path, and no one was in sight. Then, with the biggest grin on his face, he held out his hand.
“Shovel, please.”
My heart was thudding so hard it made me feel light-headed. “I seriously can’t believe we’re doing this,” I said, reaching into my purse. I pulled out the shovel and handed it to him quickly. “If we don’t find it in ten minutes, we’re abandoning this.”
Jensen smirked and hurried back behind the bench. “Oh, I’m going to find it, babe.”
While he dug, I kept watch. I was serious about only giving him ten minutes to search. For all we knew, the box was already gone. Too much time had passed where someone could’ve possibly found it.
Five minutes went by, then six, seven, eight, and then nine. Time was almost up.
“You have one minute, Jensen,” I warned, keeping my attention on the path. Still, there was no one in sight. I glanced up at the trees, trying to see if there were any cameras. “We are so going to get caught,” I grumbled.
It was only a matter of time.
With today’s technology, I had no doubt we were being watched and that security was on their way. I looked over at Jensen, who had a mound of dirt piled at his side. He hadn’t stopped digging since he started, and sweat gleamed off his forehead, his arm muscles flexing with each thrust of the shovel.
“We have ten seconds,” I said, feeling the disappointment well up in my chest. I was hoping we would’ve found the box by now.
In my mind, I finished the countdown.
Eight . . . seven . . . six . . . five . . . four . . . three . . .
Just as I was about to get to two, I heard the shovel clang as it hit something hard. Jensen’s eyes widened, and my heart skipped a beat. But then, something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Heading toward us were two men in a white golf cart.
“They’re coming,” I hissed, my body freezing where I stood.
The bench was surrounded by bushes, so the men couldn’t see Jensen. Jensen pushed the small shovel underneath one of the bushes and frantically waved for me to hurry.
“Get over here,” he commanded, taking a seat.
The men drew closer, so I calmly walked over to Jensen and sat beside him. He put his arm around me, his voice right by my ear.
“If we keep our feet together, it should hide the hole. Just act normal, okay?”
My back was drenched in sweat, and I could feel my pulse in my throat. The cart was getting closer, the tires crunching on the gravel. Then, finally, the men slowly came up on us and I held my breath, trying to figure out what I would say to them.
With my grandmother’s secret box not being on my property, did I have any rights to it? Probably not, but I wanted what was in it.
The men were only a few yards away, and I still held my breath. It wasn’t until they passed us and gave us a nod of acknowledgment that I finally allowed myself to suck in a gasp of much-needed air.
“Oh, thank God,” I said, clutching my chest.
Jensen stood and watched them disappear out of sight. “Do you think they suspected anything?” he wondered.
“I hope not,” I said, kneeling on the ground to see into the hole. “Either way, let’s get what we came for and get out of here.”
There appeared to be a long, dark green rectangular box that looked like something soldiers would store ammo in during a war.
Jensen brushed away all the dirt and pulled out the box; a lock kept the latch closed. I wanted to open it then and there, but we needed to leave.
Quickly, I slid the box into my purse and helped Jensen fill the hole. It only took a few seconds, and once we were done, you couldn’t tell the ground had been disturbed.
After taking one last look at my grandmother’s and T’s bench, Jensen and I walked the one-mile path back to the garden entrance.
