Tell her. Share your burden. You don’t have to carry it alone.He couldn’t. It was too personal, too private a flaw. “No one would have faulted you. They would have understood.”
She shook her head. “They deserve this happiness without my baggage bringing them down.”
That he understood. More than she knew.
He nudged her shoulder with his, then reached behind him to grab the gift. “Hey, I have something that might make you smile. Want another present?”
“You and your family have given me too much.”
“This one’s different. It’s from me, Jared, and Wyatt.” Gripping it tightly, he handed it to her and held his breath.Please let her like it.
Her fingers brushed his as she curled a hand around the edge. “I should wait until we’re all together.”
Evan moved his head side to side. “They wanted you to have it now, on Christmas.”
“Should I open it then?”
He laughed and nodded. “That’s usually what you do with a present.”
She ran her hand over the perfectly wrapped box. He couldn’t take credit for that—he’d asked Mom to help him wrap it yesterday. Her fingers stilled on the sliver of tape holding the final piece of gift wrap in place. Finally, she revealed the entire box and lifted the lid, removed the book.
“What is this?” Her hand rested on the cover, as if she knew what she’d find, but wanted time to prepare.
“A scrapbook of your life with Mike.” His eyes remained glued to hers, waiting for a reaction. “We had creative help from a few of the females in the squadron and some of the guy’s wives.”
Hands trembling, she lifted back the front cover. “Oh my goodness, it’s the first picture of Mike and me together, years before we ever dated. We spent hours in that sandbox as children. How did you find this?”
“We called your parents, and they sent us a handful of photos to choose from.”
She flipped to the next page and laughed. “Our junior prom. What was I thinking with that dress?”
“You were pretty.” He elbowed her in the ribs. “A bit mermaidish, but still cute.”
“Those sequins.” She shuddered in embarrassment. “I bet that dress is still hanging somewhere in my parents’ house.”
She went forward several pages and stopped. “Senior prom proved my fashion taste matured.”
“Is that a green tie he’s wearing?”
“I didn’t say his style improved.” As she continued examining each page, a range of emotions swept over her face.
Affection. Grief. Love. Sadness. Merriment. Grief again.
A tear dropped on the final page, and she didn’t move to dry it. Her hand pressed against the plastic page protector. “The day he deployed. This is the last picture ever taken of us together. I love it, even if it’s bittersweet. I can look at our faces and see the love between us.”
“He loved you—no doubt about that. His final words begged us to tell you how much he loved you.”
She clutched the scrapbook close to her chest. “I’ll treasure this forever. Thank you.”
“There are a few hours of Christmas left, and there’s still snow on the ground. Should we bundle up and sit outside with hot chocolate?” The idea came out of the blue, but he discovered he really wanted her to say yes.
“I can’t imagine a better ending to this day.”
“I’ll make the drinks and meet you outside.”
While the milk heated, he ran out to the shop and grabbed a space heater. He plugged it into an outdoor outlet on the patio and pulled two chairs close to it. With that and the heat exuding from the house, they should stay semi-comfortable.
He returned to the kitchen right as the milk turned into a rolling boil. After removing the saucepan from the heat, he funneled it into cups and added the powdered mix. Threw in extra marshmallows.
