“Will you stay with me while I figure this out?”
I squeezed her fingers.
“Of course.”
She gave me a small, sad smile.
“Even if this becomes more complicated?”
I looked at her.
“Sarah, the smoke alarm goes off every time I make toast. Complicated is practically my natural environment.”
She laughed softly.
Then she kissed my cheek.
And I realized I would gladly face a thousand difficult conversations if it meant seeing her smile again.
The Envelope in the Bottom Drawer
Three days later, Sarah discovered an envelope hidden inside the lining of her old suitcase.
She had been looking for a receipt when her fingers caught a loose seam.
Inside was a small brass key and a folded note in her late husband’s handwriting.
Sarah sat on the bedroom floor, staring at it.
I found her there twenty minutes later.
“Sarah? Are you okay?”
She looked up slowly.
