When We Were Young

A Second Life

I headed toward the door and pulled it open, ready to run. Ready to escape the heavy air that was strangling me with memories of dredged up feelings of anger and hurt. But I stayed. I rested my head against the bedroom door, my hands knotted behind my neck. I couldn't leave. This was my last chance to ever be with Skylar.

"You should hate me. I wouldn't blame you. I want you to." She was speaking very softly. "It would be easier. That last night we had together, I've relived that night over and over again. I wanted it back. I wanted you back, but I didn't deserve you. I know that."

I lifted my head but stayed on the other side of the room.

"I never blamed you. You did the right thing and I put you in a position where you had no choice. It wasn't fair. I knew full well what I did. Just like what you did with your ex-wife. I sabotaged the life we could have lived. But I didn't know then what I was doing. I promise you that. I didn't know that I was closing myself off and hurting you so much. I would never purposely hurt you."

Skylar's voice was steady.

"I've found peace with a lot of things in my life. But Albert, there is so much I would have done different with you. So many things," Skylar murmured and I wondered if she was talking to me. "I should have gotten on that plane with you. I should have never let you go. I pushed you away. You lived the life I wanted you to live and yet I still hated you for it, and I hate hearing about it now because it's the life I wanted with you."

I stared at her, my heart hammering against my chest and the beat drumming in my ears. "Did you know before I left that you were sick?"

"What?" She appeared confused. 

"Did you know?" I repeated with a stronger voice. 

Her lips twisted and she shook her head. "If I had known, I like to believe that I wouldn't have pushed you away. I would have needed your strength. No, I had no idea."

I don't know if I was relieved or not, but knowing that Skylar knew she wasn't sick before I left almost made me feel better. Almost.

"I should have told you about Cambridge, before I even applied."

She smiled and glanced down. "It wouldn't have mattered. I would have found a way to turn it against you even then." Skylar paused and bit her lip. "Can you go in the closet for me? On top, there's a small gray box."

I nodded and moved mechanically, and pulled down the box.

"Open it. Please."

I sat down on the edge of the bed, my back to her, and opened the box. There were pictures of me, pictures of us. There were cards I gave her, notes from flowers, movie ticket stubs and concert tickets of shows we went to together, a map of London from one of our many trips, a hospital wristband. I read the date and it was when she had broken her leg. I smiled.

A box of memories. A box us. "Why are you showing me this?" I asked.

"At the bottom." Her voice broke my reverie.

I pushed through the bottom and wasn't sure what I would find. Until I found them. I pulled out the stack tied together. There must have been at least twenty. I picked them up and flipped through them, looking at the dates. The last one was dated seven years earlier, about a week after my wedding.

I turned and looked at her, holding up the tickets. "I don't understand."

"Twenty-three times. Twenty-three times I bought one-way tickets to fly to London and find you. And beg you take me back. And twenty-three times I realized that I didn't have the right to disrupt your new life. Your happiness didn't include me."