Discovering an old letter my husband wrote to me when we were teenagers filled me with joy. I couldn’t wait to open it and take a trip down memory lane to those carefree years filled with cherished moments.
Inside the envelope were a bunch of old photos of many of our classmates, but what caught my attention was the photo of Thomas. He was a good friend of ours who tragically drowned. The strange thing was that all of the photos of the students were taken at the school except for that of Thomas. His was taken at the lake where he lost his life.
Along with the photos there was a note that read, “I did this for us, but you must keep silent.” The handwriting was definitely my husband’s.
But what could this even mean? Why was Thomas’ photo different? I was confused as questions kept coming; questions I didn’t have answers to.
The bittersweet memories of Thomas filled my heart. His loss was tragic. I remembered how sweet and fun he was.
As I was reminiscing my past, my husband, Ernest, entered the kitchen. His hands were dirty from the work at the backyard and he had his usual smile on the face. However, the moment he saw me holding the old letter, his face changed and his smile was suddenly gone.
“Where did you get that?” he asked with a shaky voice.
“It came in the mail. You sent it over 20 years ago, it probably got lost in the mail and now it found its way,” I answered.
His smile returned, but it seemed forced. “Wow, I can’t believe it actually came. There was this company sending packages in the future. I was just messing around back then, I thought they went bankrupt,” Ernest said.
Even if that was true, it didn’t explain the content of the old letter and the message it came with.
Ernest was quick to find a suitable explanation. “You see, I did some photography back in high-school and no one knew about it, so I took these photos to share my passion with you. It’s nothing,” he said, but the way he said it didn’t resemble his usual self.
“And what about Thomas,” I asked. “Why isn’t his photos taken at the school, like those of the rest?” I insisted.
“I probably didn’t catch him at the school. You know he loved being at the lake most of the time,” Ernest said and started preparing dinner.
Deep down, I knew there was more to the story than Ernest was willing to share with me.
Thinking of Thomas, I couldn’t help but recall that he and I could have been…you know, a couple. But his sudden death shattered any possibility of that and I started dating Ernest shortly after.
“Are you sure nothing else is going on, Ernest?” I asked again, pressuring my husband to reveal something more about the content of that old letter that caused a turmoil in my mind.
“What are you applying, Suzanne? Do you think I’m hiding something from you? Cause I’m not,” Ernest said nervously.
I didn’t know how to ask any more questions without my words sounding like accusations.
“Ernest, I just want to know if there’s more to the story. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together.”
He insisted he wasn’t hiding anything, so I let it go.
Seeing Ernest in the living room having fun with our sons reminded me of how great of a husband and a father he has been to be and the boys.
I tried to shush the tiny voices in my mind that forced me to investigate further, because Ernest was a lovely man who loved us unconditionally.
I found myself torn between what the truth behind Thomas’ drowning could be, and my husband who has given me the perfect life.
That evening, I fell asleep in Ernest’s arms. Being there with him was all that mattered. I decided I wouldn’t let the past jeopardize my present and my future.
By storing the old letter inside a drawer I barely opened, I made my choice. And that choice was to trust my husband, no matter what my heart told me.
