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He sets the box down on the dining room table. I stand up and slowly approach him; I’m practically holding my breath.
He simply looks at me. “Carson, I guess you know about...” I trail off as he approaches, a tender warmth in his eyes that stops me mid-sentence.
“Anna, I went to the storage room,” he explains softly. “I wanted to get the fishing gear... I knocked over this box.”
“It’s Graham’s,” I reply softly. “He kept all his legal papers and journals in here.”
Carson nods. “Yes. His journals. Have you ever read them?”
“Me? No, they were his.” I look up at Carson with a frown. “I know you don’t want me to talk about him—“
“No, Anna. It’s okay. I know the truth now,” he says gently.
“You do? Then you know that he only married me because the lawyer recommended it. Neal… Neal would have…”
Carson comes up and cradles me in his arms. “Neal could have contested the will and then gambled it all away,” he murmurs. I lean against him, a wave of relief washing over me. Finally, we’re discussing Graham and the past. Maybe we can then put it behind us.
“Anna, I’m a stubborn fool for not letting you explain,” he admits. “But, did you know that Graham wanted me to read the journals? He left them for me.”
I frown up at Carson, confused. “What, No. I… He never told me. He just asked me to keep them. I thought maybe he wanted Connor to read them, so I thought I’d give them to Connor when he was older.”
“No, Anna. Graham wrote the journals for me. I’m the hot-headed guy who left you pregnant. I’m sure he meant them for me.”
“What do they say?” I ask him, curiosity in my gaze.
“Well, the main thing they told me is that you refused to exchange wedding vows,” he replies. “He wrote that they were too important to you. You didn’t feel right saying vows, or wearing white, or even a wedding dress. You refused his ring. You also didn’t want to be married in a church.”
Carson gives a rueful laugh. “He really admired you for your beliefs.” He pulls me away from his chest and stares down into my eyes. “And so do I, Anna.”
In a low voice, he explains, “The fact that you wouldn’t make any vows says a lot about your character.” He continues, “I feel the same way. Wedding vows… they’re sacred. Something that should only be shared between two people who are in love with each other. Graham quoted your words, Anna. For me. He wanted me to know.”
I look up at Carson, yearning for more. “What else did he say?”
Carson sighs. “Anna, I’ve been sitting down in the storage room since I left the apartment. When the box toppled over, I didn’t even want to touch it. Connor said the yellow box was Graham’s.” He shakes his head as he admits, “I’m so glad I did. One of the journals fell open. It’s almost like Graham was in the room with me, forcing me to read them.”
“The first journal talked about how he felt about you as a child,” he begins. “How your parents and he and his wife, Martha, were so close. He talked about Neal and how they hoped he could fight his gambling addiction and then their disappointment when he couldn’t. Graham went on to describe himself as your doting uncle.”
I smile. “Yes. Oh my God, Carson. He always told me I was family. Did he say anything about his condition?”
“Oh yes, I think that was journal four, but Anna, the journals were more about you,” he clarifies. “How you nursed him through it all. How badly he felt about taking your youth.” Then Carson laughs. “How, if he had felt better, he’d have hunted me down and demanded I listen to reason and marry you.”
He squeezes me tight, and my tears again start to flow. I look up at Carson. “I loved him like an uncle, Carson. There was never anything more,” I finish, my voice trembling slightly.
Carson nods, his gaze searching mine. “I know, Anna. He told me. He loved his late wife, and they both thought of you as their own.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a worn photograph; the edges softened with time. “He had this picture pressed in between the pages. It’s you as a child, with him and his wife. He has his arm around you, and you’re nestled in his arms. I swear I can see the love in your eyes, and he wrote that they were always so proud of you.”
A bittersweet smile graces my lips. “Yes, I had won a Spelling Bee that day. I remember wearing that red sweater.”
“Yeah,” Carson continues, his voice filled with newfound warmth. “He also talked about how your father made some bad financial decisions, and he was just getting on his feet when they died. He talked about how he was helping you find a place to live, but you insisted on taking care of him. He felt terrible about you having to spend your days taking care of a...” he hesitates, searching for the right word.
“A crotchety old man,” I reply with a soft laugh, wiping away a stray tear. “That’s what he called himself. Oh, Carson, he was so kind to me. You, you would have liked him.”
“I do like him, Anna,” Carson replies, his eyes filled with sincerity. “There’s so much more, but that’s the highlight. Some of the journals were about Connor and how he felt selfish because he had the joy of seeing Connor grow. You gave him something to live for.”
Carson takes my face in his hands, turning it so our eyes meet. “Anna, I love you. I’m in love with you. I started falling for you eleven years ago, and I haven’t stopped.”
His words hang in the air, heavy with emotion. My heart thrums in my chest; it’s deafening to hear the silence that has settled around us.
“Carson,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion, “I love you too.”
