Page 116 of Built & Burned
“We’re okay?” he asks. “I know we aren’t perfect, and I never will be. But?—”
“Yeah,” I say. “We’re okay. Better than okay, actually. I don’t expect you to be perfect, Lord knows I’m not. I expect you to never hide or lie to me again.” And I believe every word I tell him.
“I won’t, I promise. I learned a lot about my failings as a husband through all this.” I go to stop him, but he interrupts.
“No, let me finish. I learned I failed you in ways before my financial infidelity hit.”
He shifts up on his elbow, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I let my insecurities take priority. I always blamed myself for Holly’s accident, and I let that overshadow myrelationship with her, and in doing so, you too. I prioritized her wants and feelings over yours. I wanted to achieve more, be better, and I know you’re ambitious too. But you wanted them for more pure reasons, security. Mine was all ego-based, wanting to prove to people who weren’t even asking for it that I could accomplish more than my dad or grandfather did on my own. That ego led me to trust a guy like Rick and to get us into this situation. I promise you, I will keep myself in check and not get caught up in what doesn’t matter again. Because of you, what we build together, that is what matters.”
I tear up, hearing how far we’ve come. I give him a light kiss, not wanting to wallow in the heaviness, which seems to be all we’ve lived in for months.
“Honey, if you ever need someone to stroke your … ego, just pull me back into your truck, I would be happy to make you see what a big man I know you are.”
Sam guffaws at my absurdity and drags me back down into his lap. “Thank you, baby, for giving me another chance. I will be glad to take you up on that … ego trip any day.”
38
SAM
The fair smells like fried food and sawdust, the same as it always has. Kids running around with sticky hands, music a little too loud, booths that haven’t changed in ten years, and the tinkling sounds of bells from all of the games.
I glance over at Becca as we walk in, hand-in-hand. Her fingers curl into mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and I marvel that after years together, this shouldn’t feel new, but it does. I will never take her hand in mine for granted.
“You trying to win me a stuffed animal?” she asks, glancing up at me, taking me out of my thoughts.
I huff. “I don’t remember you being the stuffed animal type.”
“I’m not,” she muses. “But I’d let you waste our money on trying to prove you're the strongest man.”
I shake my head, smiling, loving hearing “our money” out of her mouth again.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I see it’s the policestation calling. I step slightly to the side, pull it out, and bring Becca with me.
“Sam Hughes,” I answer.
“Mr. Hughes, this is Officer Daniels.”
My shoulders tighten and I see Becca’s back straighten.
“Yeah, what’s going on, officer?” I skip to the point.
“We brought Rick in this morning,” he explains. “We’ve got him on the footage, and the messages you provided line up.”
I glance back at Becca, as the officer asks if Becca is nearby.
“She’s with me, one second,” I say and grab my earbuds, giving one to Becca and myself. “Okay, you can continue.”
“Rick talked,” Officer Daniels relays.
Becca and I are both still. “Fully?” I question.
“Enough,” the officer agrees.
I take a breath, preparing for what will be said. “Alright, let’s hear it.”
Daniels exhales, already sounding exhausted from the day. “It started with the salon.”
