Chapter 143
The bank employees practically bowed when Will walked in. Several of them greeted him and offered some services that Will didn’t listen to. Their voices were a low buzz in his ear, like a bug he wanted to swat away. He walked to the back, towards a startled teller.
“H-hello, Mr. Stewart. Your patronage is greatly appreciated. How c-can I help you?”
“Good afternoon,” Will said. “I have a key to a safety deposit box number 34. Please escort me so that I can open it.”
“Y-yes, sir. Of course, sir. Right this way, sir.” The teller led him through the bank. People stared and whispered as he walked. While it may have felt like several lifetimes ago, the press conference had recently happened, and William Stewart was still a hot name in the city. He’d grown used to it over the years. The stares and whispers. But it felt different. There was a weight he felt that he hadn’t felt before. He used to be the focal point of scandals and tabloids. The billionaire prince that was caught up in some sort of trouble.
This time was something else. It felt as though people were expecting something more of him. That what it is. Expectation, Will thought. He’d showed his cards, and now they waited for him to play his hand.
“Excuse me,” a timid voice spoke. Will looked and an older man was trying to speak to him.
“Yes?”
“You don’t know me, but I worked for Stewart Industries as a young man many, many years ago. It was still a small company then. I met Mr. Conrad Stewart. He was a good man. I was devastated to learn of his passing.”
“Oh,” Will was stunned. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I watched the press conference you did. I felt compelled to tell you that Mr. Stewart would have been proud. You uphold the ideals he founded the company on. Coming from the past, you are the future of Stewart Industries.”
Will was speechless for a moment. A flush of warmth flooded him.
“I really appreciate that. May I ask your name?”
“Herman Brown, sir.”
“Please, call me Will. It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Brown. Come by the office anytime.”
“Thank you… Will.” They exchanged a smile and Will continued towards the vault. Everyone in the bank was enraptured by the conversation. He could see people feverishly texting or snapping photos of the conversations. He was sure he would see something about the interaction in the tabloids in the morning.
“Box 34, sir,” the teller said after opening the vault.
“Thank you.”
“I can get you a chair, sir.”
“Yes, please. Thank you.” Will began to feel nervous, and he couldn’t understand why.
The teller brought him a chair and insisted he take his time. William Stewart seemed to be the king of the city at the moment. A bank he had no business with was treating him like a VIP client.
The key felt was lead in his hand. Grace is in there. He didn’t want to open it. But he knew he had to. The key slid into the lock. The resulting click rang through the empty room and the sound echoed all around him. Like a gunshot. The memory momentarily gripped him, and his heart gave a painful thud against his ribcage.
He closed his eyes the violent image of Grace’s lifeless eyes laying in a pool of her own blood attacked him. Cold sweat bloomed across his forehead and his stomach turned. He took slow deep breaths to regain control and he forced the images away.
Trembling hands removed the contents of the box. Will fell into the chair as he looked upon what was left two him. There was a pair of flight tickets to Costa Rica, a pistol, and a photo album.
He would give the tickets away, he decided. Possibly to Margie. She was a wonderful assistant. The pistol he would hand over to Captain Whitlock. It could be evidence of some kind. The photo album was old. A vague memory pulled at the edges of his mind. Grace had had it since they were kids and often updated it. It was essentially a chronicle of their time together.
He opened it without thinking and a note fell out.
Will, I don’t even know how to start. I would say at the beginning, but our beginning was a lifetime ago. If you’re reading this, it means I’m gone. Whether by my own hand or someone else’s I’m not sure. But I guess you’ll know.
How did we get here? I used to be you and me against the world. Although it never seemed like it, I depended on you too. My life wasn’t perfect. But when I met you that all changed. I met someone who wanted to me around. Someone I could give joy to. I should have known that the way we clung to each other wasn’t healthy. But I didn’t care. I loved you. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing that by now though. Tired of me.
I know you don’t believe me, but I am sorry that I left. To be honest, I don’t even know why I did it anymore. Maybe that was the problem. I had no reason to do it and I did it anyway. I ruined us for no reason. I betrayed you. I should have known that I wouldn’t be able to get you back. I’m not sorry. For any of it. I wanted our life back, and I would have done anything to get it. I suppose that’s the difference between us. When I left, you let me leave. Whereas I fought to get you back. It was wrong, but I’d do it all again. Except for leaving you. That was where everything went wrong.
Well, now you won’t have to worry about me. I know that in the end, you’re probably glad for it. I won’t be around to mess up your life anymore. I can only hope that maybe you can cherish some of our better memories. Forget the end. Remember the beginning. Our beginning. No matter what happens in your life, you need to remember that you didn’t know happiness until you knew me. Remember that. Every time you kiss her. Every time you hold your child. That feeling. I taught you that.
You taught me that too. I guess all I really wanted, was a chance to be happy again. Maybe someday you’ll find out why it had to be that way.
Goodbye, Will.
Don’t forget me.
Shaking fists clenched around the paper. His vision blurred with angry tears as he fought to keep them from falling. It took every effort to keep himself in control.
“Goddammit, Grace,” he sniffled. “What the fuck happened to you?”
For the first time, he mourned. Not because he missed her. He wouldn’t. He mourned her for who she used to be. For what she once meant to him. He mourned her because of what she had devolved to. What happened for her to spiral this way? There had to be more than what she said to him. He mourned her, she who was his first love. All she wanted was not to be forgotten. All he wanted was to forget.
He opened the photo album. The first photo was from Will’s nineteenth birthday party. Conrad had rented a smaller boutique hotel with a pool. The photo captured a silly moment between them. Grace was perched on Will’s shoulders while he flexed his muscles showing off how strong he was. Signs of a lively party were caught behind them. People dancing and splashing in the pool. Even Alex was in the photo.
In the background, unnoticed with his back to the camera, was someone Will didn’t know. He wore a white t-shirt. A tattoo of a claw was visible on his neck.
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