Margaret has always trusted Martin.
He was reliable, kind, and never gave her a reason to doubt it – until then. When she pulled into the driveway, the sight of her caused her heart to her.
There, under the dark light, Martin and his ex -wife Janet stood summarized through a freshly dug hole in their backyard, hands covered with dirt, their expressions tense.
The way they whispered each other, they looked around, as if they were hiding something, they sent Margaret’s spine cold. What could they bury – or reveal – and why had Martin never mentioned it before?
Margaret never imagined that she would return home to her husband Martin, kicking furiously to her garden next to her ex -wife. The silent conversation between them and the dirt covering hands clarified it – they revealed something significant from their past. As Margaret approached, the suspicion crawled and her heart pounded. She heard that men reappeared old flames with collaborators, friends or even former lovers, but never thought she had to take care of Martin. Since they met, she believed that she was different – trustworthy, devoted and above all honest.
Two years ago, Margaret met Martin through a mutual friend at a time when she was the lowest. The fresh of a painful five -year relationship struggled with doubts and a heart break. But Martin was like the breath of fresh air – shock, worry and always attentive. He had a way to make her feel appreciated, always listening to her stories with real interest.
One moment she got out was when she surprised her with homemade chicken soup and a selection of her favorite romantic comedies when she was sick. “Everyone deserves little care when they don’t feel good,” he said with a calming smile. At that moment she thought he was the man I was waiting for.
One of Martin’s shots that Margaret adored was his light stutter when he was nervous or stressed. She remembered her first “monthly” dinner in a fantastic Italian restaurant. He was enthusiastically talking about the new accounting software that his company implemented when his fork suddenly slipped and tomato sauce stained on his shirt. His face reddish when he stamped, “I-i am as a sculpture as M-Mess.” Margaret laughed and assured him, “It’s okay – Red suits you.” That night, despite the dessert, he admitted that his stutter always appeared when he was amazed. It was one of the many things that brought him to her.
When their relationship deepened, Martin confided to Margaret about his past, including marriage with Janet. He described it as someone who always wanted more – more money, more luxury, more condition. Their marriage, explained, disintegrated under the weight of her tireless requirements. He calculated the arguments of maximum credit cards, extravagant holidays that they could not afford, and its frustration whenever he could not meet her expectations. “I felt like I was drowned, and she was just pushing me below,” he confessed to one evening as they cuddled on the couch. Margaret sympathized and promised that she would never take Martin for granted. She was determined to love him for who he was, not for what he could give.
When Martin suggested a year later, Margaret did not hesitate. Their wedding was intimate, but beautiful and indicated what she believed was the beginning of a lifelong journey. Then the fateful Tuesday came.
Margaret spent the weekend visiting her mother and was excited to return home, planning Martin to surprise her favorite home lasagna. But when she pulled into the driveway, she stiffened. There, in the middle of her beloved garden, Martin and Janet dug. The shock and confusion washed at her. Why was his ex -wife here? Why did they tear flower beds that she carefully cultivated? Margaret watched them for a while before she got out of the car, her voice was sharp when she demanded answers.
Martin looked frightened and his well -known stutter Kopal – something that happened only when he was extremely anxious. The suspicion grew in Margaret’s chest. Hiding something? Was there a secret between him and Janet?
Before the spiral, Janet entered and explained that they had simply gained a time capsule, which they buried ten years ago when they lived in the house. Martin, still angry, confirmed her story and admitted that she thought it would be fun to reveal old memories. Margaret’s frustration has spread. Did they destroy my garden?
She attacked inside and tried to process everything, while Martin and Janet followed and carried the time capsules covered with dirt. Martin hesitant, wanted to speak, but Margaret was not ready to listen. She told them to continue and experience their memories without her again.
Frustrated, got out and decided to start the fire. The evening air was cooled as the flames were flashing in front of it and the burning anger in the chest. The sound of laughter was carried out of the house – they lost in the past, lost in Martin and Janet. At that time, Margaret decided.
She called them, her voice stable. “Why don’t you bring the time capsule?” We can have a nice fire together. ”
A few minutes later Martin and Janet entered the terrace and carried a metal box. Martin put it on the ground beside her and offered a small and hopeful smile. “That’s nice,” he said.
Margaret nodded and without a word began to pull out objects – well photographs, love letters and souvenirs from life that was not part of. Then, without hesitation, she threw them into the fire.
“What are you doing?” Janet was breathing.
Margaret’s eyes remained on the flames when she firmly replied, “Some things belong to the past. It’s time to move forward. ”
She watched the fire of the relics of the previous Martin’s marriage and felt a strange combination of closure and uncertainty. This was not the way they imagined their lives together, but perhaps, from now on, they could build something new – something real.
Janet, sensed the shift, apologized and left quickly. Martin stayed and his eyes glistened with non -forming tears. “I’m sorry, Margaret,” he murmured. “I was supposed to tell you about the time capsule.” I didn’t want you to think I still had feelings for Janet, and I was afraid you would be angry in the garden. I thought if I just dug it when you were gone, it would all end. But now I see I made a mistake. Can you forgive me? ”
Margaret stared at the fire and her emotions tangled mess. In the end she spoke, her voice calm but firm. “I don’t know, Martin.” Trust, as soon as it is broken, is not easily repaired. ”
And they stood quietly and watched the last past turned to ashes.
The fire cracked gently and its warmth licking in the cold evening air as Martin sat beside me, quiet, his hands gripped firmly. I felt his despair, the weight of his regret that pushed us as an invisible force. But trust was not something that could be rebuilt in the night. It wasn’t just about a time capsule or garden – it was about secret, a quiet fraud that made me questioned everything I thought about him.
“I don’t expect to forgive me immediately,” Martin said, and his voice was raw with emotions. “But I love you, Margaret.” I want us to go through it. ”
I sighed and stared at the flames when the last remnants of his past turned to Ash. Could we rebuild? Could I look at him again in the same way? Or would it always remain between us as an open blow, will never fully recover?
“I need time,” I said, getting up, my voice company. “And I need honesty.” No other secrets, Martin. If we are going to move forward, everything must be outside. ”
He nodded, his eyes full of emotions that I couldn’t place quite – was it hope? Or was it knowledge that he may have lost me?
When I walked in and left Martin with the fire in the room, I realized it was just the beginning. Whether our marriage would survive or disintegrates remained uncertain, but one thing was clear – Martin wasn’t a perfect man I had believed in him. And maybe, maybe, I had to stop looking for perfection and start deciding what I really deserved.