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Chapter thirty-seven

Cecilia

Can we just admit that Amy and Sheldon are the best couple in Big Bang Theory?

I watch Silas drive away and feel my heart breaking a little more.

I know I’m the one who left, but I would have thought that seeing each other close up like that after so long meant he would have said something.

Or at least said hi... but no, he seemed sad, then looked away and left without saying bye.

“Sweetie... you okay?” Morgan places her hand on my arm with an expression of concern on her face.

I turn to her with tear-filled eyes. “I don’t understand... I thought he’d... he just left... he didn’t even try to talk to me...” My voice wobbles as I try to contain the sob desperately fighting to escape.

“I’m sure it’s just too hard for him. He misses you a lot. Talking to you but not being able to be with you might make it harder...” She smiles sadly, squeezing my arm a little.

All I can do is nod, not trusting my voice in this moment. I take a deep breath and step out of my car, locking it up and heading inside behind Morgan.

Clay stands by the island, hip leaned against the side. “How are my girls?” he asks with a side smirk, eyeing me, then his wife. He probably knows we ran into Silas on our way in.

“Good, we had a great time at the spa, and now I feel five years younger,” Morgan tells him, walking up and giving him a chaste kiss.

He knits his brows, watching her head to the fridge. “You’re only twenty-seven.”

“Exactly. The big 3-0 is coming up, and I don’t want to feel it,” she replies, taking out ingredients to make lunch.

Clay turns back to me with a little shake of his head. “Is it just me, or has she gotten more dramatic over the last year?”

I giggle because he’s totally right, I’ve noticed it, too. But I know exactly where it comes from. “You can thank Emma for that. ”

He puts his palm to his face and mutters, “I knew those two hanging out was a bad idea.” He sighs like it’s the end of the world, then brings up his other hand and takes a step toward me. It’s only then I notice him holding a black envelope.

“He asked me to give you this.” Clay’s voice is quiet as he watches for my reaction.

My heart stops in my chest. I stare at the envelope, unable to give my arm the strength to lift and take it. I feel my hands grow sweaty and shaky.

Why would he write me a letter when he leaves me messages daily? What could be so important he’d need to handwrite it rather than leave me another message? What if his reaction in the driveway wasn’t because seeing me was too much? What if this letter is him saying goodbye...

My throat bobs while I swallow down my emotions and I look up to Clay with big teary eyes.

“No, C. He loves you. If I thought for a second that’s what was in that letter, I wouldn’t have agreed to give it to you.” It’s as if he can read my mind, he always knows what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling, even when I won’t say it.

I finally manage to raise my arm and grab the envelope. Once in my hand, I trace the letters of my name on the top, written in Silas’s handwriting. I’ve always been fascinated with how elegant his handwriting is for a man. It’s beautiful. I miss seeing it every day.

“You should read it alone. He didn’t say what it contained, but with how desperate he was to get it to you, I think it will be something you’ll want to read privately.”

“Okay.” It comes out as a whisper.

I get up from the stool I was sitting on and look from Clay to Morgan, then turn and head to my temporary room. When I’ve made it in, I close the door behind me and sit in the armchair by the window. It’s where I listen to all of Silas’s messages.

I hold the envelope between my fingers and simply stare at it for a while. I’m afraid to open it. After what feels like a lifetime, I inhale deeply and swipe my finger beneath the flap.

Inside holds a white sheet of paper folded in three. I pull it out and delicately unfold it. My eyes instantly gloss over with just having read the first two words.

Dear Cecilia,

Everyone has been telling me that I need to give you space. That me sending you messages and voicemails every day isn’t giving you the time that you need. That it might make it harder for you to figure out where we go from here.

I thought they were wrong. I didn’t want to believe that they could be right. My intentions were never to confuse you. I just wanted to feel close to you, and I didn’t want you to think I had given up.

But now, I realize that maybe there is some truth to their words. That maybe I need to take a step back and let you decide what you truly want without interference. It took me some time to come to this decision, to tell myself it was the right thing to do.

So here I am, writing my last message to you.

Teardrops fall over the letter, and I quickly dab at it with a tissue from the box sitting by the chair. I lift the sheet in the air and away from my rapidly falling tears.

I know what you’re thinking right now, and you’re wrong. This isn’t a goodbye. It will never be a goodbye. Because the truth is, Minnie, I could never let you go, even if I tried.

You are the single best thing to have ever happened in my life, and me taking a step back doesn’t change anything. I still love you. I still want you. I’ll always want you.

This isn’t the end of our story, Cecilia. It’s simply a little break between the chapters.

It has to be because you’re the Pam to my Jim, the Lily to my Marshall, and the Monica to my Chandler. The Elena to my Damon, the Blair to my Chuck, and the Meredith to my Derek.

And yes, I just named all your favorite TV show couples.

A giggle slips from my lips despite how much I’m crying. He was always so good at remembering everything I said.

“You forgot one,” I say out loud, noticing he didn’t mention the most important duo.

But Minnie, do you see what all those couples have in common? (Well, except for Monica and Chandler. But I know they’re high on your list, so I couldn’t leave them out.)

They all had their issues where they had to take breaks, and for a little while, we weren’t sure it would work out. But in the end, it did, and they got their happily ever after.

Just like I know we will.

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, that you’re the Amy to my Sheldon. You’re my earworm, one I never want to live without.

My heart grows, and I sob at the reference... he didn’t forget.

But if at the end of the day you decide that this isn’t what you want. That you can’t do this with me anymore. Then I’ll understand, and I’ll walk away. Even if it kills me.

But know that no matter what you choose, no matter what happens, in my eyes you’ll always be my wife. There will never be anyone else for me but you. You are my reason—my everything.

And if all you need is time, then come back to me when you’re ready. Whether it’s weeks, months, or even years, I’ll still be waiting. Because I’d wait a thousand lifetimes for you, Minnie.

Eternally yours,

Love, Silas.

I hold the letter to my chest, breathing through my silent tears. “Oh, Silas...”

~ Four Weeks Later / Mid-May ~

“This place is adorable. You think Clay could make me one, too? I’m an excellent neighbor. I’m really quiet, I don’t party, and I don’t snoop. Plus, I always pay my bills on time,” Aubrey says from her spot on the floor.

She sits legs crossed with a glass of wine in one hand, the other supporting her weight behind her. To think this girl used to be shy and barely say a word, now she speaks her mind loud and clear. Well, in front of us.

We’re sitting in my new living room after bringing all my stuff in. The renovations on the pool house officially finished three days ago, and all the furniture arrived yesterday. So today, we took it upon ourselves to pack up all my things and bring them down to the pool house.

Since the boys are in Seattle for their game tonight, that will determine if they head over to the Conference Finals or not, Clay wanted us to wait for them to come back. He wanted to get a couple of the guys to help move things, but we wanted to prove that we were just as capable on our own.

And now with all of that done and most things put away, Morgan, Emma, Aubrey, and I are celebrating my new temporary home with wine and takeout that should be arriving any minute.

“What’s the matter, baby Brey? Living with big brother Ford getting a little too much for you?” Em jokes around and giggles. We’ve heard some stories about all the women Greyson brings home, to which Aubrey has the unfortunate pleasure of witnessing.

“I almost got attacked last week by some crazy chick who claims they’re dating.

She showed up at the house because he hadn’t been answering her messages, and when I opened the door, she lost her marbles.

” She shakes her head. “Started screaming and coming to me with her fists, but Grey was right behind me and pulled me out of the way in time. We had to call the cops, and he filed a restraining order against her.”

“Wow...” Morgan comments.

“Wow indeed. Morg I think you should get your husband started on an extension to the pool house,” Emma adds, pointing her glass in Morgan’s direction.

“Are you okay, though?” I ask with a bit of worry. That must have been scary.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just really tired of his parade of women at the house.

I’m thinking of getting a part-time job while finishing up my degree.

I know I could just ask Grey to buy me a place, but I don’t like using his money.

” Aubrey sighs. “He’s already the one paying for my education, and lord knows how expensive rentals in New York are.

So I’ll never be able to afford it on my own without his help.

But if I can at least pitch in a little with my own money, I’ll feel less like I’m taking advantage of him. ”

“Why are you so mature?” Emma asks her, then turns to Morgan and me. “Why is she so mature? Were we this mature at twenty-one?”