Me l’aveva tenuto nascosto perché aveva paura. Non di me, in realtà. Ma del momento in cui un sogno, espresso a voce alta troppo presto, può sembrare fragile. Temeva che potessi pensare che fosse irrealizzabile. Temeva il costo e quello che avrei potuto dire quando avessi visto quanto aveva messo da parte.
So he waited. He planned. He kept the money in the one place he thought was safe.
The smell, he explained at the end of the letter, was from the old papers and the damp cash stored inside for too long.
He was sorry for getting tense when I tried to clean near the bed. He had not been ready for me to find any of it yet.
He had planned to tell me on our anniversary. He wanted to take me there himself, to see what he had built, to ask me to be part of it
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