“Good? No, they’re not good. They’re ... like ... divine.”
He laughed. “Oh good. We need to order some then. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted divine.”
She looked at her plate. “All of this was divine.” Her expression grew serious. “Someday I hope you’ll send me another box just like that one because I sort of ruined that one.”
“I’ll do that right away. How’d you ruin it? Do you have a dog now too?”
“No, I sort of punched the cover of the box to keep my coworkers from stealing them.”
He tipped his head back and laughed heartily. “That doesnotsound like you.”
“Yeah, I know. Oh, Brent, there’s so much you don’t know.” She sucked in some air. She might as well come clean. “A few weeks ago I woke up with blood all over me, and I couldn’t figure out where it had come from and I really, really freaked out. I thought I’d hurt someone, but I finally found out that no, I had helped someone. I was kind of a hero even, but then apparently I got a ride home with some strange man, and I still don’t know who he is. And then I sort of confessed to everyone that I was an alcoholic, so now everyone knows. Well not everyone, but my pastor, and my friend Cindy who sort of runs the church. So if you ... if we get back together, just know that I’m not a closet drunk anymore.” She laughed tensely. He opened his mouth to speak, but she wasn’t done yet. “And then I sort of freaked out at work and screamed at my coworker and yeah, punched the box of chocolates. I also popped some of your balloons and set the purple ones free. And I smashed all my wine bottles and sprayed wine all over my apartment. I think I might be losing my mind. I don’t know if you want to get involved with this level of crazy.” She gasped for air. There. That might be enough information.
His eyes were wide. “Wow.”
She laughed, relieved he hadn’t taken off running. “Yeah, wow.”
“No, no, it makes sense.”
“It does?” she cried. “How does any of that make sense?” It was pure madness.
He reached across the table with both hands open. She slid her hands into his. They were so big, so warm, the fingertips calloused from work.
“Sammy, you are the most unemotional woman I’ve ever known.”
She didn’t know what to say. Was that an insult?
“I’ve never understood why or how you’re like that. The women in my family are always crying or screaming or having some sort of fit.” He laughed. “But not you. You were like a robot.”
Yeah, definitely an insult.
“Sorry, maybe that was too harsh. My point is, I wonder if, without any alcohol, maybe some suppressed feelings are coming to the surface.”
“Wow, Brent,” she said after a pause. “That’s pretty profound. Have you been in therapy or something?”
He laughed. “No, I can’t afford therapy. I just know you. I’ve known you a long time. And I might be wrong. But if I’m right, I just want to say that I’d much rather deal with a little bit of screaming and a little bit of chocolate box and wine bottle smashing than I would watch you silence yourself with alcohol.”
Tears formed in her eyes, and she fought them off. That might have been the sweetest thing he’d ever said to her.
“See? Right there! You just stopped yourself from crying. Now where do you think that emotion goes when you don’t let it out? I really have no idea.” He laughed. “I’m not a therapist, but I don’t think it just goes away. I think you store it somewhere.” He sighed gently and looked at her with the most tender expression. “Sammy, I really, really want you to be able to cry in front of me. I want to be able to comfort you.”
A realization dawned on her. “When we first got together, I was fun. You said you loved me because I was fun. I thought that’s what you wanted.”
He nodded. “I know, and I’m sorry. That is what I wanted back then. But I was an eighteen-year-old idiot. My wants changed, and I’m sorry that I didn’t do a good job of letting you know that, of communicating that. And I’m even more sorry that I didn’t give you enough time to change too. You obviously have now.” He squeezed her hand. “I love you, Sammy. Always have. Always will.”