I did. I looked at the far wall and at the new picture hanging there. It had an ornately golden frame. Antique, I thought immediately. The picture wasn’t of people, but words. I couldn’t read them from here. They were written with curly black letters on a soft gray background.
Even though I didn’t know what it said, I could tell that it matched everything perfectly. It looked amazing on the wall. It brought everything together and added a bit of flare.
But why would there be a picture on the wall?
“What is it?” I whispered.
“You should go read it?” His voice pitched lower, trying to disguise his nerves. If I hadn’t known him so well, I wouldn’t have noticed. But I did know him. I knew him so well.
I didn’t move.
“Kate,” he whispered as if he could see my feet stuck in place and the way my hands trembled. “Go read it.”
I shook my head, but he couldn’t see me.
“Please.”
It was the broken plea that scratched from his throat that made me finally move. I couldn’t say no to that. No matter how much I wanted to. No matter how much I wanted to believe I could move on from this man, I couldn’t. Not if he said please like that.
Not if he sounded like he needed me to look at this picture more than he needed to breathe.
I had only turned on the lamp in the living room, so it was still fairly dark as I walked over to the wall. I bumped into the coffee table and clipped my shin because I couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to where I was going.
I found it harder and harder to swallow as I made my way to the wall. It took seconds, but I had myself so worked up by the time I reached the picture that I was worried I would pass out.
I propped one knee on a chair and leaned in.
Love that is enough.
Love that is big enough for two.
Love that is endless enough for more.
Love that is just between me and you.
My voice trembled as I asked, “What is it?”
I had heard his breath quiver before he asked, “Do you like it?”
“Nick, what is it?”
His sigh told me everything he didn’t say. He didn’t want to tell me what it was. He didn’t want to explain his actions or motives or anything. He just wanted me to like it.
But I couldn’t do that. I had to know. I had to know where it came from.
What made him do it?
“Do you remember Jared’s old girlfriend? The weird artist one?” I sucked in a sharp breath while he paused. Finally, he admitted, “Last year. I had it made for you last Christmas.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me?” I closed my eyes to stop the tears that threatened to spill over. Last year he’d gotten me a new Kindle. Mine had stopped turning on and I asked him for one. He’d gotten the exact one I’d picked out.
It had been a great gift. It had been exactly what I wanted.
But this… This was something… else.
His laugh was bitter. “Do you remember last Christmas?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “No… I mean, I don’t know.”
“We were not in a good place.” His voice was a roughened rasp against the phone. “Jared had asked to borrow money and we argued about it. I had to work Christmas Eve and you were mad and… and I chickened out. I didn’t want to upset you again. I didn’t want to fight with you on Christmas. It was easier to get you what you wanted.”
My heart thumped painfully against my chest. “Why did you think this would upset me?” Even though I knew why he would think that. Even though I knew, I could be mean.
More than mean.
I could be house-falling-on-me-because-I’m-the-wicked-witch-of-the-east kind of mean.
“I was afraid to remind you about… about having a baby. You were so confident it couldn’t happen. You still are.”
“Nick,” I hiccupped. I didn’t want to fight with him about this again. “It’s…” Too late. “Lovely.”
“We’re a mess, Kate.” His voice sounded stronger. It was absolutely silent on his end of the phone, so when he shifted I could tell that he was in bed. I pictured him in athletic shorts and a t-shirt, his long runner’s legs stretched out in front of him, his hair tousled from his fingers running through it all day.