I couldn’t hold it in any longer, I burst out laughing. “This is insane! Slow down!”
Sergio joined in my laughter. “Now you want me to slow down? Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I think I left it back there with that squirrel you took out.”
With a low chuckle, he slowed the car down to around fifty and drove us the rest of the way into the city.
I was still smiling when we parked at the grocery store.
“I want you to have it.”
“Have what?” I frowned looking around the car in confusion. What “it” was he referring to?
“The car.” He pulled off his sunglasses and tossed them onto the console. “Technically, all of the cars are yours since we’re married, but this car, I want this car to be yours and only yours. I got it right before I came to New York. The only other time I’ve driven it that fast was right after she died.” His voice cracked. “I took a corner way too fast. I should have rolled, but I didn’t. I was so angry. So frustrated that life wouldn’t just take me. So I drove as fast as I could, I got the car up to one-sixty and just drove, thinking if I just get fast enough, maybe my heart will stop. Maybe I’ll hit a tree, maybe…” He shrugged. “This car at one point, felt like a means to an end. Nobody cares if a man like me gets into a car wreck as long as he doesn’t hurt anyone else. It would be an easy out. For everyone.”
My heart broke for him. “What made you change your mind?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tattered piece of paper. “I always kept it close to my heart, in my inside pocket, but when I was driving, for some reason it was on the dash, I wouldn’t be so careless to leave it there. To this day I have no idea how it got there.”
“What is it?”
“Read for yourself.” He handed it over to me and pointed at the grocery store. “I think I’ll go inside.”
“But—”
His door shut, blanketing me in silence as I glanced down at the piece of paper.
99 Things to do on my honeymoon!
1. Go to Tokyo.
2. See the London Eye.
3. Learn how to cook!
4. Pet a giraffe—feed one too.
5. Learn Origami.
6. Twirl in the rain—as many times as I can.
7. Get kissed in the rain by a handsome man (doesn’t have to be Sergio!) 8. Jump out of a plane 9. Bake a cake and jump out of it.
10. Get a really kick ass tan.
11. See the Swiss Alps.
12. Pet a dolphin.
13. Sing karaoke.
14. Have lots and lots of sex.
15. Go to a Broadway show and sing along even if it sounds horrible.
16. Sing at the top of your lungs — badly.
17. Make a baby.
Tears splashed the page as I kept reading. Some of the tasks were crossed off but most of them were still waiting to be accomplished. A few had been underlined like maybe she thought they were more important or she wanted to do them next. Or… perhaps that meant Sergio had done them or was getting ready to do them? There were only ninety-nine different things she had wanted to do, sex was listed more often than necessary It might have been titled honeymoon list.
But it was a bucket list. Anyone with two eyes could see that.
My heart hurt — for this girl — for the one that Sergio loved, for the time they didn’t have, hadn’t had. But most of all, I was thankful, because this small scrap of paper had saved his life.
Probably more than once.
She’d saved his life — even without being here to do it.
Maybe it was my turn to pull the weight.
Not that I was going to make it easy on him, but it did help me understand just a little bit more — why he did what he did.
And why it was necessary that I help him stop the cycle of madness and live.
I left the note in the car and made my way into the grocery store. I finally found Sergio in the baking aisle looking about as confused as I’d ever seen him.
“They’re chocolate chips,” I said from behind him. “Not ammo.”
“But there’s a billion different flavors, and this one says soy free, this one says dairy free, and it just…” His frown deepened. “…stupidly occurred to me that I know nothing about you, do I?”
My stupid heart melted a bit. “Well.” I reached for the dark chocolate chips and slammed them against his chest with a small smile. “Now you do.”
He grabbed the bag and looked at it. “Dark Chocolate?”
“I like the way the bitter taste makes your mouth water. No matter how many times you eat dark chocolate, your mouth always waters.”
His eyes hooded. “Does it, now?”
Oh, crap. He was looking at me. I take it back. He shouldn’t say hi, he shouldn’t even be near me, because he was dangerous when he was nice, and I was defenseless.
“Promise me something,” I blurted.
“Anything,” he said without hesitation.
“Don’t run.”
A pained expression flickered across his face. “I won’t.”