Chapter 13 - Twelve Years of Notes
Our thirteenth wedding anniversary arrived quietly.
Edward did not plan anything.
That surprised me.
No flowers.
No reservations.
Nothing.
At breakfast, he kissed Jamie’s head and began making coffee.
I raised an eyebrow.
“You forgot.”
“No.”
“Then?”
“I didn’t know whether we still celebrate.”
That question broke my heart in a way I didn’t expect.
Our marriage had technically survived.
But anniversaries honored promises.
And ours had been complicated by a twelve-year lie.
“I don’t know either.”
Edward nodded.
“Okay.”
He left the subject alone.
At noon, Claire called.
“Come to headquarters.”
“Why?”
“Trust me.”
“Your family has destroyed that phrase.”
She laughed.
“Fair.”
I went anyway.
Claire took me to Edward’s old office.
The box of lunch notes remained.
“He’s going to throw these away.”
“What?”
“He says they belong to a version of your marriage that wasn’t honest.”
I touched the box.
Hundreds of notes.
Some silly.
Some romantic.
Some mundane.
Buy milk.
Call plumber.
Love you.
Good luck.
Every morning, my handwriting had reached a man living two lives.
“He thinks these are evidence of his lie?”
“Yes.”
I stared at them.
“No.”
I carried the box home.
Edward was outside repairing our porch railing.
Still refusing to hire someone for anything he could do himself.
I dropped the box beside him.
He froze.
“Claire.”
“Yes.”
“I told her—”
“You don’t get to decide what these mean either.”
Edward looked at me.
“They were real.”
I picked up a note.
“When I wrote I love you, I meant it.”
Another.
“When Jamie wrote bring pizza, he meant it.”
Another.
“When I told you drive safe, I meant it.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“You lied about your job. Your money. Your family. But don’t rewrite my love into something fake because you feel guilty.”
Edward’s face crumpled.
“I don’t deserve them.”
“Maybe not.”
He almost laughed through tears.
“But they’re still ours.”
I held out the box.
He took it.
Then I said, “Happy anniversary.”
Edward stared at me.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
I laughed.
“But marriages are apparently allowed to be complicated.”
He set the box down.
“I didn’t get you anything.”
“Good.”
“I can.”
“No.”
“I know a jeweler.”
I glared.
“Billionaire Edward is annoying.”
“Construction Edward was cheaper.”
“He was also fictional.”
“Partially fictional.”
I laughed.
Then kissed him.
Not briefly this time.
Edward held me carefully.
When we separated, Jamie stood at the doorway.
“Gross.”
I smiled.
“Go inside.”
“Does this mean you’re not divorcing Dad?”
Edward looked at me.
So did Jamie.
I took a breath.
“Yes.”
Edward’s eyes filled.
Jamie threw both hands up.
“FINALLY.”
Then he ran inside.
Edward laughed.
“You’re sure?”
“No more asking.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I pointed at him.
“And one more thing.”
“What?”
“Tomorrow morning, I’m packing your lunch.”
His smile faded slightly.
I continued.
“And you’re going to eat every bite.”
May you like
Edward laughed.
“Yes, ma’am.”
