I am startled as I open the flaps on the box , shocked by the sight of her book. I pick it up and peel open the front cover, I can almost smell her, and there it is, a message in that familiar handwriting "I couldn't help but think of you and all the possibilities and unknowns ahead, let the fun begin!" She signed her name, I slowly trace it with my finger and look over my shoulder to see if anybody is watching. It is a Joseph Campbell book, I never read it, but I remember her placing it my hands and laughing - there seemed to be so many possibilities.
"I know you said no, but I got you something. I thought of you when I saw it, with all the stuff we have been discussing." She pushes me back and grabs me by my shoulders, silently telling me to stay before retrieving a gift bag from her car.
"Oh wow, you really shouldn't have, thank you so much." I wrap my arms around her and pull her tight before we kiss. We lean against her car and look up at the darkening sky, there is a long silence before we are in each others arms again, quickly scooting into the backseat of her SUV. I quickly scan the surroundings before closing the door, it seems advantageous to have parked at the top of the campus parking garage.
"Are we really going to do this?" She pulls me close, answering her own question.
I can't imagine sex in the backseat of any of my cars now - I'd be at a physical therapist the next day trying to fix my back. For some reason, it worked that night, of course everything always seems right and urgent in the beginning.
Of course, we both were married and knew it. In the end, love was not enough, it still pains me that I was stupid to cross that line and lose a great friend, as if it was avoidable. Would we have still been such close friends now if there had never been the affair? A bead of sweat drops from my forehead to the yellowing page, I reread it.
"Is that the last box?"
"What? Fuck, no, you scared the shit out of me!" I flinch as my wife seems to magically appear in the garage doorway, hands on hips, forever the taskmaster. The bursts out laughing and I join her with my own laughter more rooted in nervousness.
"Calm down old man, wait, are you still looking at the first box? This will take all day, just let it go, leave the past where it belongs, besides you haven't opened those boxes in years, let's drop them off today." She turns and is gone as fast as she appeared and I wonder if she was ever really there.
"Okay." I realize the craziness of this answer since I am alone. I tear the first page from the book and push it into my back pocket. I wonder what we had been discussing that led her to get me a book about mysticism, but we were always discussing something. She could make any subject exciting, or maybe that was just youth. The conversations were always so enthralling and I truly miss that, I miss that other version of me. Was that me or is this me, I remember asking myself that type of question when it was all happening.
I move the boxes to the back of the car. It would've taken me weeks to review everything. My wife is not a reader, so she'd never understand nor has she ever understood.
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