Come Back To Me

Chapter 3

Three

Riley

It’s been days since we were in that shop and I still can’t get that book out of my head.

I can’t get that owner’s voice out of my head either.

Gareth was wanting to leave me . . . Or he’d at least thought about it.

Leo says it was nothing but nonsense and not to listen, but it’s hard to ignore what was said.

I’ve turned the whole house apart, looking for more hidden gifts and any evidence left from my late husband’s supposed affair. I thought we were happy. Sure, we were going through a rough patch, but what couple doesn’t?

Turns out the happiness was one-sided. What did that other guy give him that I couldn’t?

I breathe in and out deeply, scrubbing a hand over my face.

He probably never cheated. There was probably never anyone else.

But the very words raised suspicion inside me that felt like something I kept pushing down.

I still don’t want to believe it. I twist my wedding band on my finger and lower myself onto the couch, staring at the last gift Gareth gave me.

It was a music box. The song it plays is the one we danced to at our wedding.

My heart falls when I remember what he said when he turned the key on the back.

“Songs shared between two people are reminders of what one means to the other. There’s so much said in them that we can’t always express with our own words. ”

Was he going to say the same thing to the man he was having an affair with when he gave him the snow globe?

My throat tightens, an ugly sensation crawling over my skin, and I pick up the music box, running my fingers over the engraved message at the bottom.

“There’s no other place I want to be but with you.”

I turn the key, my breaths shaking, as tears well in my eyes. My throat tightens and I hold the music box tighter, slamming the top down when it gets too hard to watch the two men inside dance together. I set it down and look toward the garage. Curiosity killed the cat, didn’t it?

I should let it go. It doesn’t matter anymore.

He can’t be with either one of us now. My feet grip the floor and I lift myself off the couch with all the strength my hands can provide.

The short walk feels like the longest walk of my life.

Everything is so heavy. My feet. The garage door.

The gift bag I snatch from Gareth’s toolbox.

I reach into the tissue paper, lifting the snow globe slowly before turning it over . . . and sure enough, there it is. An engraved message.

“I’ll always leave the light on for you, even if it’s just as a friend.”

I play the song again, and I do know this song.

I’ve heard it before on the radio and again in .

. . in here when Gareth was working on his car.

He bought older ones to fix up. Sometimes he sold them and others he kept for himself.

He kind of slowed down when he took the new position at work .

. . or when he started fucking someone else.

The snow globe rolls out of my hand, crashing onto the ground when someone knocks on the door.

I look back and then wipe the liquid onto my jeans, cursing under my breath.

There’s glass everywhere. On my shoes too.

I shake them off to keep from tracking glass into the house as I rush to open the door.

As I pull it open, I straighten my back when a man in a cop uniform turns around to face me.

He’s holding a plastic baggy in his hand.

The large white label in front makes it hard for me to see what it is.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hi. Mr. Vega?”

“Yeah. That’s me.”

He nods, smiling. “Mr. Vega, I’m Officer Seymore. I’m here because we’ve recovered your husband’s phone from the scene of the accident.”

My eyes fall to his hands again and the muscles in my cheeks tick. “Oh. You found it. Good. I was worried it’d be shattered into a million pieces and buried by animals by now.”

He laughs halfheartedly, shaking his head. “No. It was found by a morning jogger. I thought I’d come by and return it to you.”

“Thank you.” I reach for the bag and his fingers graze mine, his eyes sparking something in them.

“You’re very welcome. Oh, and by the way, you should really get that window fixed.” He points to the slanted screen and jammed window I’m unable to close anymore. “There’s a lot of crazies out there. I’d hate for someone to walk by one night and see it as an invitation to rob you.”

“Ah, yeah.” I rub the back of my head. “Just haven’t gotten around to it. Turns out it’s super expensive when your husband dies. So not only do I get to grieve his death, but I also get to go into debt.”

“Yeah. I feel ya.” His eyes are sympathetic. “I lost my husband a year ago. Doesn’t get easier, so you won’t hear me saying it does.”

“Finally. Someone being honest.”

“Yeah. I know I appreciated it when I finally had someone lay it on me straight and not sugar-coat shit for me.” Pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve heard a cop curse while on duty.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“There are some good books out there that really helped me. You’re welcome to them. I don’t need them anymore.”

“I . . . you don’t have to do that. I doubt I’ll have much time to read once I’m back at work anyway.”

“Well, the offer still stands if you change your mind. Here’s my card in case you need anything else. I patrol this area regularly and I’m pretty good at fixing things like windows.”

Is he flirting? No. Probably just being nice to me because he knows I’m going through a hard time. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be okay.”

“I don’t mind.” He stretches his neck, looking at the window before his eyes fall back to me. “Doesn’t look like it’ll take long, and like I said, I’ll be in the area.”

I bite the inside of my cheeks, looking around, and then nod. “Yeah, okay. Sure. Oh, and I guess you can bring those books too.”

He chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Will do. I’ll see you next week, then.”

“Yeah. I get off at four and should be home no later than five.”

“Seven it is then. Lucky for you I have the later shift.”

“Yeah. Lucky me.” I force a smile, leaning on the doorframe.

Am I flirting? I’m not the least bit interested in this guy, but it does make me feel good to be looked at like that again.

Too bad it’s not by the right person. It doesn’t matter that Gareth was cheating.

I mean, it matters, but it doesn’t make me miss him any less.

We could have figured it out. We could have fixed what was broken. We can’t now. That accident took whatever last chance we had at being us again.

“Take care, and set that alarm at least.”

I wave him off, closing the door as soon as he reaches the end of the sidewalk and is only inches away from his car.

I press my back to the door, looking down at the phone in the bag.

With my heart feeling like it’s about to escape my chest, I quickly yank it out, but when I try to turn it on, the battery icon flashes on the screen.

Dead. Of course it is. It’s been sitting out in the dirt for over a week.

Grinding my teeth, I enter my bedroom and plug in the charger.

I watch it until it’s charged enough to turn on, hitting the power button so hard it leaves an indent on my finger.

The phone flashes on with the little welcome tune, the screen a little messed up from the crash, but it’s clear enough for me to find his text messages.

Time for me to see what he was looking at instead of the road.

Sliding my finger up and down, it stops on Arkansas.

He nicknamed the person the number belonged to after the state he got the snow globe from.

He knew I’d think nothing of it if I saw it, assuming it was something work related.

He’d asked me to join him on his trips before, but I could never get enough days off to go with him on both his work trips and the other vacations he had planned.

It was either one or the other. Maybe I should have chosen the work trips.

There are so many maybes running through my mind as I scroll through all the messages.

They don’t sound like conversations between two lovers when they first start.

It just sounds like two friends discussing their day and what color they want to paint the den.

I stop on one, my heart racing. He was with someone too. They were both having an affair. My eyes skim over the message twice.

Arkansas: I told him I flew out to Arizona. My first lie to him. He doesn’t know where I really went.

Gareth: Did you say why?

Arkansas: I said to visit my brother who lives there. He doesn’t really like my family so didn’t bother to check. I wonder if he’d even care if he knew where I really was.

Gareth: I think he would. He looks at you like he would at least.

Arkansas: Are you trying to convince me to stay?

Gareth: No. Just pointing out what I see.

Arkansas: I don’t love him anymore.

Gareth: Then why marry him?

Arkansas: I don’t know. I guess it’s because it’s where I’m comfortable. But I don’t want to just be comfortable. Tell me not to marry him and I won’t.

Gareth: It’s not my decision to make.

Arkansas: No, but if you really wanted me to leave him for you, I would.

Gareth: I have to go.

Arkansas: You always do this.

Gareth: I’m sorry but Riley is calling for me. We’re running late for this dinner thing.

Arkansas: Do you even still love him?

Gareth: I can’t do this right now.

Arkansas: Just a quick yes or no.

Gareth: Yes.

Arkansas: Do you love me?

Gareth: I like hanging out and talking to you. Look, I’ll message you tomorrow. I’m sorry, but I really have to go. This whole thing is important to Riley.

That was only a month ago. It was a dinner with potential clients, and I told him I didn’t want to go alone. It’s when he kissed the back of my hand saying, “You don’t have to.”

My heart squeezes and fuck, I loved that man. Too much. I read more messages, and they’re all pretty much the same. Arkansas doesn’t ask him if he still loves me again until days before the accident.

Gareth: Yes

Arkansas: Do you love me?

Gareth: I don’t know.

It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either. I jump to the very last conversation between them, my pulse beating in my ears.

Arkansas: Meet you in Little Rock the day after you arrive?

Gareth: I don’t think you should. Actually, I don’t think we should do this anymore.

Arkansas: But this weekend is supposed to be more special than the rest.

Gareth: Yeah, and that’s why I don’t think you should join me after all. I want to work on my marriage. I’m planning to tell Riley everything when I get home.

Arkansas: Are you serious? Are you going to tell him it’s me?

I know him. The shop owner said I did.

Gareth: No. I promise not to mention your name.

Arkansas: Why are you doing this? I love you, Gareth. We could make each other really happy. What are you afraid of?

There are no more messages after that. I drop the phone on the nightstand and fall back in the bed, staring at my shaking hands.

He was choosing me. That doesn’t make me feel any better, though.

He should have wanted to work on us before going to someone else for whatever he thought he couldn’t get from me anymore.

I can’t hate him for it no matter how much I try to. I keep trying anyway, and then end up rolling under the covers, soaking the sheets in tears as I mourn more than the husband I lost. I mourn the chance to be all he needs again.

I’ll never get that. I’ll never hear him say he’s staying because he loves me too much to walk away—because he can’t see himself spending the rest of his life with someone else. He might have been with me when he lost control and hit that pole, but his mind was with him as he read his last message.

I must have been exhausted because I fell asleep with Gareth’s phone in my hands after watching all the videos he had of us.

We were smiling and laughing in almost all of them.

I noticed the sadness in his eyes in the last one, the one I took before we left the house on the day I lost him.

I kept telling him how handsome he was while he got dressed, filming him with his phone, and he held his hand over the lens, one side of his lips lifting.

“Turn that off and go brush that wild hair of yours,” he said.

Waving the phone back and forth, I laughed and said, “No, because I’ll have to do it again when you mess it up.”

Lips turned up in a full grin, he yanked me toward him. “I guess that’s true, huh?”

The video ended and that’s when he tossed the phone on the bed before laying me beside it to drag my shorts down my thighs.

He really was going to choose me. He made love to me that day the way he used to when I felt like our love was timeless.

When I felt like we were unbreakable and nothing could come between us.

I scroll through his gallery, seeing nothing but pictures of me.

Me smiling. Me holding the towel up while showering.

Me naked under the sheets. And me smiling before we got in the car and he kissed me like he was going to lose me if he didn’t.

He was going to choose us, and now I have to find a way to choose us too.

In my recent dream, Gareth was stuck on the other side of the road, struggling to move past the rising gravel, and he kept shouting at me that there was only one way for me to choose him.

He could come back to me. I could bring him back to me. I have to at least try to.