My Endgame (A Steve Rogers/ Captain America Love Story)

Chapter Three

Two and a Half Years After the Snap

Most afternoons I tended to my garden. Something about the stillness of the plants gave me peace. I could hear them. Asking for what they needed, telling me how they're doing. Theo would call me insane. He loved the garden but he never spent any time out there with me. He loved what it produced, what it gave us. But, he never enjoyed the process. I liked to study the plants and watch them. They changed constantly and I noticed every change. I would often text Theo about the new vegetables we had growing back there.

"New tomato today!"

"You would love the lettuce! It so crunchy!"

"Peppers look good!"

He never responded. In two and a half years I had compiled too many text messages to a number that will never text me back. The phone stayed where he left it. Plugged in next to the bed on the nightstand. For a while I would listen to the buzzes when I would text but recently I had to silence it. It was almost becoming a fantasy.

Sometimes when I sat in the garden I wondered if I ever married Theo at all. Or if he was just a figment of my imagination. Slowly I had replaced more and more of his belongings. Some things I had put in a recently purchased storage unit, others were in the trash. There wasn't any hope of return. People were starting to move on. I tried.

"The plants saying anything today?" Steve walked out of the house and into the backyard with two glasses of iced tea.

"Nothing yet. Maybe they're still nervous around you." I joked. Steve laughed once and handed me the glass.

"How are you doing today?" Steve had become my closest friend. There was no one else I talked to besides my neighbors on occasion but Grace, a middle-aged woman who had lived in the house next to us for over 25 years, moved on almost immediately after her husband disappeared and I didn't agree with it. Her new husband, Carl, was of old money and the two of them spent most of their time together changing the things that made their brownstone beautiful and classic. While she never did, I mourned the loss of her first husband, Stanley.

Steve was like the plants though. Peaceful. Calming. He brought me back to a safe, happier place.

"I'm alright, just thinking a lot." Steve sat down in the chair next to me and leaned back.

"Thinking?" I nodded and looked at the carrots.

"Yeah, it's not so much his home anymore. It's just mine." Steve placed his glass on the table and licked his lips.

"Are you upset by that?"

I took a deep breath. A big part of me was. I still missed him. I still loved Theo but he wasn't here anymore. Somedays I didn't even think about him that much. I felt guilty on those days.

"I don't think I'm as upset as I should be." I admitted.

"This is all just apart of grieving and moving on. I promise it will feel better. One day your feelings won't be so confusing." Steve placed his hand on my knee and I felt a jolt of energy. I smiled and took a sip of my iced tea.

"I try not to feel so guilty but all of these are new plants that he never saw. There are dishes and paintings and sheets that Theo never touched." He nodded, listening to me. "I mean, I've replaced most of what we created together in this home. It's mine. Just mine." Steve kept his hand on my knee. I placed my hand on his. There was a long pause before I shook my head. "Thank you. For just listening every time I vent." He laughed.