She pointed toward his desk.
“One morning he sat right there and read your note.”
“What did it say?”
“I don’t remember.”
She smiled slightly.
“But afterward he said, ‘I remember why I’m doing this.’”
She looked at me.
“He doubts himself more than you probably realize. He can finish something extraordinary and immediately convince himself it isn’t good enough.”
“The notes interrupt that?”
“Exactly.”
I looked at the box.
“And the food?”
“Robert is real.”
She laughed softly.
“And he genuinely loves your sandwiches.”
I almost smiled.
“So tomorrow, Robert is going hungry?”
“I suspect Edward can afford to buy Robert breakfast now that his secret is gone.”
That finally made me laugh.
I spent the afternoon inside my husband’s office.
I didn’t read every note.
There were far too many.
But I read enough to watch our marriage move backward through time.
Jamie being born.
