Today. Tomorrow. Always (Free Falling, #3.5)(12)

I eased back, letting her head fall gently to the pillow and then I placed a foot on the carpet. With another quick, careful maneuver, I was out from beneath the comforter and headed toward our bedroom door. Crossing the hall, I caught a glimpse of the little one standing in his crib, both hands braced on the railing, a single tear glistening on his cheek.

“What’s the matter? Can’t sleep?” I asked, lifting him from his crib. His head instantly went to my shoulder. I let him relax for a moment and then changed his diaper, thinking that may have been the problem, but as soon as I lifted him into my arms again, he clung to me. He just wanted to be held. I was pretty wide-awake by this point, too, so I figured I’d just hang with him until he fell asleep again. The room was still dark, and turning on the light would’ve probably awakened Sam, so I figured we’d just head downstairs for a bit.

The first floor was always a little cooler than upstairs, so I made sure to bring his blanket down with us. We took a seat on the couch and I clicked on the lamp beside it. After a big yawn, Anthony popped his thumb back into his mouth and we sat there in silence, just looking around the house.

“Daddy should’ve brought a book down to read to you,” I said, bringing a sleepy smile to his face. I looked around the room again, thinking to turn on the TV, but I wasn’t sure how high the volume was and I didn’t want to wake anyone else.

My eyes went to the stack of boxes on the other side of the room and I contemplated. Now seemed like as good a time as any to see what was inside, so I stood from the couch again and hitched my son up with one hand. With the other, I took the top two boxes off one at a time and set them on the floor.

“Let’s see what can of worms Grandpa sent over for us to open.”

I took a seat on the carpet and placed Anthony in my lap, bundled up in his blanket with the back of his head resting against me. I set the top to the first box aside and stared at things of mine I hadn’t seen in years—a couple books, a baseball cap I’d forgotten about, a calculator, and a bunch of other stuff I didn’t need or want anymore. Placing the lid back on top, I set that box aside, making a mental note to put it with the other things we had set aside to donate to charity.

Inside the next box, there was basically more of the same, a bunch of things that I hadn’t thought about in years because they were unimportant. That one would go to charity, too. I pulled the final box closer, thinking it’d be quickly tossed aside as well, but then I saw what was inside: pictures, clothing that held memories, and a bunch of other items that all had stories attached to them. Some good, some not so much.

I let out a breath and decided to dig in. The first thing I came across was a stack of photos I’d taken with Kira during the last few years of college. In most of them, she’d only been a friend, but the deeper I went into the stack, it was clear when we’d made the transition from friendship to something more.

Seeing her brought a bitter taste to my mouth. I’d long since stopped hating her, although it took some time. I suppose I was able to get past it because, in the end, I got back everything that was meant to be mine in the first place—Sam, our future. Because I was still in communication with her father, Mr. Tanaka, the head of my father’s company, I’d heard him mention her name a few times in passing. As far as I knew, she’d taken a job on the West Coast working for a magazine out there. I had no idea if she ever worked things out with Reina, her twin, after she’d basically pulled the rug out from under Kira, but that wasn’t my problem. As far as I was concerned, Reina wasn’t the one who needed to be forgiven after everything came out. Kira was. Reina had done nothing wrong aside from trying to protect her sister. While I wished like hell she’d spoken up sooner, I understood her position.

Those pictures were the start of my trash pile. There was no sense in keeping them when I had absolutely no desire to hold on to any of those memories. That phase in my life happened, and now it was over.

Anthony sat up all of a sudden and grabbed the side of the box, tilting it toward him so he could reach a picture of Sam. He spotted her from where he sat, which made me laugh a bit.

“Yep, that’s your mommy.”

A big grin came over his face as he smiled at the photo. The next second I had to run interference before he could get it into his mouth, though. “Nah… can’t have you slobbing all over this one, buddy. Feel free to drool on those, though,” I said, referencing the ones of Kira I’d just pitched.

I dug deeper into the box and pulled out something else. It was the program for the Metropolitan Museum of Art from when Sam and I had come to the city, my gift to her for her eighteenth birthday. Moving here had been her dream since then. Low and behold, she got her wish. While, we weren’t right in the heart of the city, we were close enough for her to be satisfied.

I smiled and touched my son’s hair when he patted my hand, letting me know he wanted a closer look when the colors caught his attention. “See? Daddy took mommy there a long time ago. She got to talk about art, about history, and a bunch of other stuff that made me look really dumb compared to her.”

He grinned big at that.

I placed the paper back inside the box and pulled out another item. Immediately, a smile crossed my face at the sight of the small, brown bear clothed in a red t-shirt that read ‘I think you’re beary sweet’. My mind went back to what felt like a lifetime ago to me and Sam’s senior year in high school. It was right after graduation, around the time she was getting out of the hospital following her car accident. I’d gone over to visit her at home one afternoon and she handed me this bear. ‘It’s for taking such good care of me while I was down, for being there,’ she’d said. I remembered it all so clearly, like it was yesterday.