Chapter 35 A Concrete Foundation
~Felicity~
I stepped through the doorway and gasped.
The garden had been transformed into something from a fairy tale. Countless tiny, warm, white lights were strung up everywhere. Along the outside of the garden, at each corner and then maybe six or so feet between, were tall lampposts. Strings of lights ran from each lamppost, connecting them.
As we approached, I saw there was a new arbor, white and covered with tiny little lights that wrapped around each slat from top to bottom.
"Something to know about the lights," Caden said softly.
"They're all solar—they recharge during the day and pour out their light at night.
Just like I want to do with loving you—each day I'll have a new chance to pour out everything I have, to spend the whole day showing you my love, and then recharge overnight so when we wake and you give me another day, I can do it all over again, for the rest of our lives. "
Dear Lord, that was beautiful—if not a little on the nose.
I kept walking toward the entrance and realized it wasn't just the lights that were new. As my eyes adjusted to the soft glow, I realized the garden path itself had gotten a complete overhaul.
"Caden," I breathed, stepping forward to get a better look. "What is all this?"
Where once there had been worn dirt paths that I'd never taken steps to improve, there was now a beautifully paved walkway.
The path I'd worked around when building my garden had been rudimentary—meant for access more than aesthetics.
When you entered, my bench sat just off to the side.
Then, walking in about six feet, you were faced with a runner path that stretched the full forty feet of the garden—basically cutting the length in half so I could access both sides of all my plantings easily from the main pathway.
These stunning wood pavers—rich, warm, perfectly fitted planks, all came together to create this long pathway and smaller ones that jutted out in between the garden beds.
In the fairy light glow, they seemed to pulse with life.
It made my space look refined and exciting—like spending time out here would be a luxury even though gardening was hard work.
"Do you like it?" His voice was soft, uncertain in a way that made my heart squeeze.
"Like it?" I turned to him, wonder, and awe the only emotions I could seem to collect in that moment. "Caden, this is... I don't even have words."
He reached for my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine. "Walk with me?"
I nodded, clearing my throat, not trusting my voice. Together, we stepped onto the new path, and it was so solid and firm as we walked.
"I know this space means a lot to you," Caden said as we walked slowly toward the center of the garden.
He paused and brought me around by the hand to stand in front of him.
He lifted his head to look around us. "You built this when you needed something that I wasn't giving you.
When I was working and focused on things that weren't you. "
I squeezed his hand, remembering those long, lonely months that Spring as I had moved to set my garden up—I'd never done anything like it before.
"I needed something different—new. I spent hours at the local nursery, annoying the owner with every question under the sun, but she was so kind and answered everything I brought to her. "
He smiled—small and sad, "I'm so sorry you had to create this beautiful space alone, and learn all of this without me by your side." His voice caught slightly.
In front of us was the herb garden, where lavender and rosemary released their scents into the evening air. The fairy lights made everything look magical, it actually felt like a dream.
"But in that loneliness, you created this beautiful sanctuary. You are the architect of something that was meant to console you in your pain."
I leaned into his side, overwhelmed by the emotion in his voice.
"It helped me do something productive in that year.
Gave me somewhere to put all the energy, so much so that I could honestly say that first year wasn't so hard for me.
This place wasn't a place of loneliness by the end. It was a place of joy for me."
"I know. And that's why..." He gestured to the transformation around us.
"I wanted to honor what you built here, but also give you new memories.
I wanted to take this space that was born from a dark time for us, that you turned to joy, and I wanted to show you how I see you—to give you something that recognizes what this place has come to mean to you. "
As we continued walking, I noticed details I'd missed in my initial enchantment.
Solar lights had been installed along the path's edges, subtle enough not to compete with the fairy lights but providing a gentle ground-level glow.
There were some new plants too in plots I hadn't filled with anything yet—white flowers that caught the moonlight, and I could smell them—fragrant and beautiful.
"The pavers—they are called Basalite Wood Grain Concrete," he said, a slight smile in his voice. "I know it sounds technical, but I chose it instead of wood for a reason." Instead of finishing that thought, he turned me to face the entrance—fifteen or so feet away now.
"That arbor—it's made of cedar. In some traditions, cedar has different meanings—it can symbolize sanctuary, offering refuge to those who seek it.
It can also mean purification and healing—cleansing away negative energy and past pains.
And it's enduring enough to weather our harsh New England storms and sun alike. "
My eyes widened as his explanation came to a close, and he turned to face me. "It felt like the perfect representation of us. Of our marriage. Of the work I need to put in, but also the future we have and the past I hope to cleanse."
"The reason this is so important in our story isn't just because of the symbolism behind the wood though. You see, wood is the traditional fifth anniversary gift."
Aware now of where he was going with it, I finally caught on to the background on how it all came about.
A little breathless, I said "I see." I left it there, not wanting to interrupt. Feeling like I should hear what he has to say on this—I deserved it.
"I said it the other night, this is my apology tour—starting with our missed anniversaries. I never made it up to you, those failures. And while I apologized, what is an apology with no context or comprehension behind the meaning of the loss you experienced?"
I felt his thumb brush over my knuckles as he continued. "The arbor—the wood in it, as I said, represents so much with regards to our past and our future. What you may not realize though, is that this arbor—while in a different wood—is actually the same design as the one we were married under.
I gasped. "No way."
Caden grinned. "Yes, way. Took me forever to find a photo in all our wedding pics that didn't actually blur it out when the focus was on us—as it should be.
Finally, though, I found one. So, the same day you went to Miami, I'd asked Marvin, our carpenter, if he could recreate it—he was all too happy to help.
I walked over to it, marveled at the sight and I was touched by the thought behind it. There was true meaning here—not just an empty gesture.
"So, that's the wood."
I responded, "but the pathway isn't wood though?"
"Exactly," he said.
I looked at him quizzically—"but it looks like wood."
"I know," and he explained. "The pavers look like wood but are actually made of concrete.
In time, wood will fade and become weathered.
" Caden continued, "but I chose concrete pavers because they're what you use for foundations.
For building something that will last. I wanted the path itself to represent the foundation we're building for our future. Something solid. Something permanent."
The symbolism hit me like a physical force. Well, shit. I'm going to cry. Damn, he put some thought into all of this.
I stopped walking and turned to face him fully.
"Felicity, in this garden, I'm trying to take something that came out of my own thoughtlessness and offer you pieces of what our future will be—if you let me—one day at a time," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
"I can't go back and be the husband you deserved back then.
But I can acknowledge what I missed, what I failed to celebrate, and I can make the changes that you deserve—that our marriage deserves. "
"Caden..." I was crying in earnest now, but they were good tears. Happy tears. "This is more thoughtful than even I could have imagined myself," I said, laughing through my own sniffles.
"But wait," he said softly and with a wink. "There's more."
He led me off to the side of the entrance, to the bench where I spent my mornings reading and thinking.
But even the bench area had been transformed.
What used to be packed earth was now a small patio of the same wood-grain pavers, creating a defined seating area that felt intentional and beautiful.
I settled onto the bench, still overwhelmed by the transformation. The fairy lights in the trees above cast dancing shadows across the new patio, and I could see the careful thought that had gone into every detail.
He held my hand and said, "look down."