A Second Wave-The Surge

Chapter 3-Simon

Chapter 3

My fingers are trembling as I bring my hand to pick up the item out of the box. It is a faded blue Tiffany box with brown, which could only be old dried blood. There is a picture of Charles next to the box, but my mind focuses on the box. Staring at it for I do not know how long, I drop it back into the box as if it was burning my hand. My breathing has increased as a million thoughts rase through my mind. I look over to the table and see my jacket hanging from the chair and bolt up to make my way to it. Reaching into the pocket, I pull out the blue Tiffany box with the stained blood from my pocket and stare down at it while walking back to the couch.

A number of feelings come over me. I cannot believe I gave her the same type of box that Charles did. When did he give it to her? What did he give her? Is it one of the charms she wears now? Holding my empty box in my hand, I reach down for the other box and shake it slightly, almost to the point of not disturbing the contents. Then I hear it. It is not empty. Do I want to see inside of it? My nerves are getting the better of me. I put my box down on the table and place the other box inside the larger box. I need something stronger than tea. Standing up, I make my way to the kitchen Being a physician, I do not condone using alcohol as a coping mechanism but a glass of wine may help calm my nerves.

Walking into the kitchen, I grab a wine glass and look through the types of wines that Shelby has in her wine rack. The wine that she recommended in Italy that I tried is in the rack and decide on that one. Not sure where she keeps her wine opener, I open draws until I find it. As I pull out the wine opener a smile comes across my face. The draw is set up exactly with the same items as in the kitchen in Italy. I do not know why but I find it cute and closer to Shelby. Once I have the wine open and my glass filled. I bring both back to the couch. Placing the bottle on the coffee table while keeping the glass of wine in my hand as I sit down in front the this box of secrets. Resting my back against the couch and tacking a few sips of wine my mind does not seem as chaotic. I do feel a sadness of not having Shelby with me. Taking a few more sips of the wine before placing the glass on the coffee table next to the wine bottle. Without even thinking about it, I fill up my glass again. My hands go back to the box and open it with the blue box is exposed. What will this accomplish, going through her things? Right then and there I convince myself that I do not need to know what is in the blue box. What I need to find is maybe information or phone numbers of Shelby's friends. Maybe she contacted one of them. Even though Shelby and I have worked together for awhile until recently. Our conversations were always work related. I think back to some of the long nights we worked together and even the times we took a break for something to eat. Shelby never really talked about herself. She always asked me questions and the conversations stayed on me. Why did I not want to learn more about her? How selfish of me? Maybe she did not have a lot of friends and spending our down time together she wanted that type of companionship. Frustrated with myself, I grab my glass a wine and start drinking it again. After finishing the glass of wine without even realizing it, I place it back on the table and fill it back up again. A deep breath releases from my lips and I pull out the items next to the blue box out.

The first item is an old paper clipping. Unfolding the yellow paper careful not to rip it in its fragile condition. A photo appears with a headline. Prominate physician killed in freak accident. My eyes glued to the article as I start reading and then a sentence three quarters of the way stops my eyes from moving on to any other part of the article. My eyes keep re-reading the line over and over again as if they are telling my brain to imprint into my permanent memory. "Killed by truck in front of his wife on their wedding anniversary." My hand covers my heart for the pain I feel for Shelby seeing Charlies killed. "Oh my God." I say out loud with my hand still over my heart. I move my hand to my wine glass and bring it to my lips as I sit back again on the couch. I thought when my fiancé cheated on me the world was going to end. It does not even come close to what Shelby went through. Thinking back to our conversations, now I understand why she had difficulty committing. Not because she thought I would cheat on her, which now as I remember our conversations, she did not want that type of heartache. I picture Shelby's face standing there and tears form in my eyes making the room blurry. Finishing the glass of wine in my hand and resting my head on the couch cushion. My eyes close spilling out the tears that have formed. My thoughts and images of Shelby play over in my head. Our time in China, Italy and in New York. Every precious moment together. Will I have any more time with her?