Chapter 3
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I found myself checking my cell phone when it remained silent for too long. Without even realizing it, I would fish the phone out
of my pocket, check the screen, find nothing, verify that the sound was on, and then return it to my pocket. I’ll never know how
many times a day that little routine took place, but after another week with no word from Sara, I can only imagine it numbered
in the thousands.

The mailman seemed to have noticed that I’ve been staking out the mailbox nearly every day, because when he arrives he
only gives Hank his dog biscuit and shakes his head at me. I know that he’s politely letting me know there was nothing from
Sara in the day’s mail. It feels like an exercise in futility, but I simply cannot stop myself. I still hold out hope that something will
be there, that she’ll send me a message, something.

Work is still work, and the evil of man continues to exist without Sara by my side, so I must do what I can to stem the tide of
violence in this city. It’s all I can do to keep from dropping everything and going after her. Work, the thing that seemed to break
down the last of her walls, is the one thing holding me together right now. Work and the slobbering creature asleep at my feet.

Hank, despite my best intentions, has managed to gain two pounds. The vet asked if I had changed his diet any, and to my
surprise, I can honestly say that I haven’t. The only thing that I can put my finger on is the dog biscuits, and I’ve stopped giving
him any myself, in the hope that will do the trick.

Our walks have slowed down. He doesn’t seem to have the same enthusiasm for those morning constitutionals. And the only
time his strides take on their former fervor are when we turn around and head back to the house. When we turn the corner of
our street he will pull a little on the leash again, but the moment I open the door to the house and he sticks his head in to sniff,
Hank just drops his head and dejectedly walks across the tiles to the kitchen. It’s the same way I feel every time I walk into the
house and fail to find Sara waiting for me there.

While I understand Sara’s need to make peace with her past, it still hurts that she couldn’t share her pain with me before it
overwhelmed her. I would have been there for her, and supported her through anything she needed. And that is why I force
myself to stay behind, instead of running after her. She needed to do this on her own, and I know that, but it still pains me to
be the one left behind.

I want nothing more than to take her into my arms and make all the evils of the world vanish before her, but I know that’s
impossible. Sara needs to put to rest the demons of her past if we’re ever to have a future together. I just wish that it was
something we could do together. I never realized until now how very much Sara has become my life; my heart.

When I went away on sabbatical I was floundering under the weight of my own demons, and I knew that if I didn’t lay them to
rest, once and for all, that I could never be the man Sara deserved. I couldn’t subject her to the darkness that existed within my
heart, and so I went away before I hurt her more deeply than could ever be forgiven.

However, what I had never counted on was the fact that I still managed to hurt her. I was so blinded by my own pain that I failed
to recognize Sara’s. It was the only part of my sabbatical that I regret, and I did everything in my limited power to earn her
forgiveness and trust once again.

We worked together to regain that trust, and I believe we had achieved that when…Natalie.

My heart was ripped out of my chest the moment I realized Natalie had placed Sara in her sights. And if it wasn’t for the fact
that I had to work to find and rescue Sara, I would have fallen completely apart with the knowledge that she was in danger
simply for loving me; for being loved by me.

I will never be able to thank the heavens and the men and women in our department for even a fraction of the gratitude I felt
when Sara looked up at me and squeezed my hand in that helicopter. I made a promise in that moment; I would do anything
required to insure Sara’s safety and happiness, all the rest of my days. And right now, that means I have to stay behind, acting
as a caretaker for the home we created with each other and our little canine ward, and as the keeper of the light that I hope will
one day guide her back into my arms.

My days off are filled with busy work. I take care to keep the house clean and orderly, and I make certain that Hank is
continuously well groomed. His weekly bath has become less of a combat mission as time goes on, and we two men in waiting
are doing our best to make sure we are in good shape when the lady of the house returns.

When all the chores are done, I settle in behind my computer and search for things I believe Sara would like, and sometimes I
order the ones that particularly strike my attention. Checking my email for the status of an auction I was attempting to win, I
found an unusual message.
PREVIOUS
NEXT
Not Much Here

From: ss1971@memail.con
Fri. 2007-11-30 16:38
To: ggrissom1956@memail.con

Gil-

I’ve been in San Francisco for weeks now, and I can’t even remember why I came here anymore. Barely anyone even knows
who I was, and frankly, I’m not sure who I was before I left here either.

It’s almost as though I was only here as a weigh station; a place to measure my progress, but never really putting down any
roots. Did you know that in the whole time I lived here, I never actually unpacked my boxes? Apparently, the ghost I lived with in
San Francisco was me.

I’m sitting in a cyber-café near on the waterfront right now, and I’m trying to figure out where I’m going next. There’s nothing left
for me here. I don’t think there ever was anything for me here.

When I figure out where I’m going, and get there, I’ll send you another postcard. Maybe some day we can look back at them
and remember it as something good that happened. I really want to believe that, Gil.

I wanted this first email to be more profound than it’s turning out, but I guess it is what it is. I’ve never been able to express
myself with flowery words, or poetic turns of phrase. I’ll leave that to you.

Know that you are never far from my thoughts, and I can only hope that I remain in yours. Thank you for your understanding,
and for not coming after me. It means more to me than you could ever imagine. I know that I need to do this on my own, and I
sincerely hope that when it’s all over, I can be ready to come back to the only home I’ve ever known.

I love you, always,

-Sara

PS-Don’t let the mailman give Hank a biscuit every day. He’ll get fat in no time, because Henry always slips him more than one.
I actually chuckled as I read the post script, even through the tears that flowed down my face. Only Sara would pour out her
heart in an email, and still find something to tease me about.

After more than an hour of reading and re-reading the email several times over, I finally found the ability to reply.
From: ggrissom1956@memail.con
Fri. 2007-11-30 19:11
To: ss1971@memail.con

Subject: RE: Not Much Here

Sara-

Thank you. It was a tremendous relief to receive your email. I was also deeply touched by your previous correspondence.
Regardless of how much faith I have in your abilities, I still worry.

I’m happy that you are making progress in your journey, even if they seem like such small achievements now. It is my sincerest
wish that each step in your journey will bring you that much closer to the life we hope to share.

Hearing from you has given light and weight to my heart. The light comes from knowing that you are safe and making strides to
lay to rest the ghosts from your past. The weight comes from pain that I can sense in your careful words. I wish I had the power
to make it all go away, so that you could come home to us and we could move on into our future. However, nothing worth
winning was ever won so easily, without the pain of our labors.

Know this… You are in my every thought and deed, and you are the source of my ability to draw breath. You are my heart,
Sara. Please take care of yourself so that you may one day return what you have taken on this journey, that thing that I have
given to you freely; my heart.

Right now, you are but a weary river, winding your way through time and space, trying to find the source of your life. I am but
the sea that your love feeds with its flowing waters, ever thankful that you are the source of my life.

Loving you, always,

-Gil

PS-You’re two pounds too late about the mailman. But at least now I know the source.
After hitting send I waited with my breath firmly lodged in my chest on the unlikely chance that she was still in front of her
computer. And that was where I fell asleep until Hank got up to lick my face because he was thirsty at three in the morning.

I checked one last time for a response before I closed down the computer and took care of my anxious housemate’s beverage
needs.