They talked for almost two hours.
When Mark returned, his face was wet with tears.
“She wants to see the storage unit,” he said.
A week later, Emily came with us to Unit 214.
She walked inside slowly.
Her eyes moved from the photographs to the boxes and finally to the shelf where the red boots were kept.
“I remember these,” she whispered.
Mark nodded.
“I bought them for you when you were four.”
Emily looked at him.
“Why didn’t you come back?”
Mark didn’t make excuses.
“I tried. Then I became discouraged and afraid. I should have kept trying. I’m sorry.”
Emily cried.
So did Mark.
I stepped outside and gave them time alone.
That day didn’t magically repair everything.
Emily still had questions.
Mark still had regrets.
And I still had to decide what his secret meant for our marriage.
We eventually began counseling. Mark answered every question I asked, even when the answers were difficult.
Emily visited slowly, on her own terms.
Over time, the three of us found a new understanding.
Eventually, Unit 214 was emptied.
Emily kept the letters and the red boots.
Mark kept one photograph.