by James Hunt
He opened the box and pulled out the first thing on top. It was a picture of Ellen. One of their wedding photos. The box was full of the old mementos he’d kept in storage after the funeral. Her parents took most of her belongings, but he made sure to set aside a few things that he wanted to keep.
It wasn’t much. A few photographs, a necklace he bought her for their tenth wedding anniversary that she never took off, letters and cards that she’d written him over the years, and the ticket stub to the movie they saw on their first date together: Mission Impossible II.
The box was nearly empty save for one tiny box nestled in the corner. Grant removed it and clutched it in his hands. He hadn’t opened it since he retrieved Ellen’s belongings from the coroner when he identified her body. He’d nearly thrown it away a dozen times but could never follow through with it.
Nestled inside was Ellen’s engagement ring and wedding band, and despite the years in storage they still sparkled in the lamplight. Grant glanced down to his own wedding ring and set the box down. He twirled the band around his finger, and then looked to the picture of her in her wedding dress.
“I’ve never stopped thinking about you. Or Annie. Both of you are always on the tip of my tongue and the forefront of my thoughts. I miss talking to you. I miss hearing you laugh. I miss holding your hand.” Grant teared up, and he wiped his nose, sniffling. “I thought keeping you buried and focusing on my work would be enough to keep going, but it wasn’t. I never grieved, because I didn’t want to let the pain go. I tortured myself with questions I’ll never know the answers to. Who our daughter would have grown up to be, what kind of a father I would have been, what would have happened if I had told you not to drive that night.” His lips quivered, and the tears fell. “But I just can’t do that anymore. I love you but,” He scrunched his face and cried. “I have to let you go, Ellie.”
Grant pulled off his wedding ring and placed it over the pair of rings inside. It fit perfectly around Ellen’s rings, forming a protective circle. He snapped the lid shut and returned the contents to the box, closed it, and placed it in the closet.
Grant went to the bathroom and splashed water on his face, wiping away the tears and snot. His eyes were bloodshot and his nose was red. The dark circles under his eyes and the lines on his face had aged him. A few grey hairs had finally sprouted through the thick black mane on his head. He looked older. He felt older.
He looked down at his left hand and the pale circle of flesh that was the only remaining sign of his wedding band. He dried his face and then walked to the back yard where he sat on one of the folding chairs the former tenants had left behind.
The sun was setting, and golden rays penetrated the trees. Grant closed his eyes and let the warm summer evening sink in. Birds chirped, and there was a light breeze on the air.
He didn’t know if it was God, or nature, or the fact that he had finally let himself look ahead to a future that was his own, but his mind had calmed. He had longed for a sense of peace, and now, after four years of pain, it had finally come.
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story!
Writing has always been a passion of mine and it’s incredibly gratifying and rewarding whenever you give me an opportunity to let you escape from your everyday surroundings and entertain the world that is your imagination.
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Again, thank you so much for letting me into your world. I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it!
Take care,
James Hunt