The Wooden Chest

The next morning, Grace woke up to the sound of rain tapping against the cottage windows. The sky was heavy with clouds. She slipped into a sweater and wandered into the kitchen subconsciously waiting for the familiar rumble of Ethan's truck in the driveway.

She decided to make herself a cup of hot chocolate to heat herself up.

The rain had drizzled by the time Ethan arrived. Grace heard the familiar sound of his truck and a small smile played at her lips.

She realized that he came early again. She started having the feeling that was this just about the renovations or he started enjoying her company or probably having a feeling towards her.

Ethan knocked slightly on the door then said. "You decent?"

Grace smirked "Depends on what you consider different"

He chuckled.

Grace opened the door for him, his hair was faintly damp from the misty air, a tool box hung from one hand.

"You're early again" she noted, crossing her arms.

"He smiled softly. "You complaining?"

"Depends. What project are you tackling today?" She asked raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I thought I'd get ahead of things"

"With what?"

"The attic"

"The attic?"

Ethan nodded, dropping his tool bag on the floor. "It's been sitting up there untouched for who knows how long. Thought I'd get ahead of it before it becomes a bigger issue."

Grace hesitated. She hadn't thought much about the attic. It felt untouched, almost forgotten.

"Unless you'd rather I leave it?" Ethan asked, watching her reaction.

She shook her head quickly. "No, no. Go ahead. I just haven't gone up there."

Ethan smiled. "Guess that makes two of us"

She followed as he climbed the ladder leading to the attic. She stayed back because the attic would be too choked up for them.

The wooden steps creaked beneath his weight and when Ethan pushed opened the hatch, a rush of stale air greeted him.

The attic smelled of dust and old wood, the single overhead bulb cast a faint, unsteady glow as he pulled the cord.

Ethan scanned the place and saw a stack of old boxes lined by the walls. There were few pieces of furnitures that sat in the corners, their surfaces coated in dust.

"Doesn't seem too bad up here. No obvious leaks. It just needs little attention" Ethan said.

"Attention as in?"

"Cleaning, organizing, Maybe checking if any of this old stuffs are worth keeping."

Grace sighed. "Great. More work"

Ethan chuckled and was about to reply when something caught his eye.

Tucked away in the farthest corner, partially hidden beneath a stack of boxes sat a small wooden chest. Though aged, it remained solid. The metal clasp which has become dulled overtime.

"Hey, I found something". He crouched down, brushing dust off the lid.

Grace tilted her head towards his direction, her brows furrowing. "What did you find?"

"A wooden chest. Might've belonged to your grandma."

Grace breath caught. Her grandmother had lived in this cottage for years she only expected she'd leave behind some furnitures and books, she had never thought to check the attic for anything personal.

Grace hesitated. "Should we open it?"

Ethan stood, dusting off his hands. "It's yours to open. I'll head down and you can climb up to take a better look."

Ethan climbed down the attic ladder as he stepped unto the wooden floor below.

Grace waited for him at the bottom, curiosity evident in her eyes. She grabbed the ladder and climbed up, disappearing into the dim space above.

She spotted the chest and she knelt down beside it, running her fingers over the surface. She had no idea what was in it.

She decided to bring it down so she could have a better look with Ethan.

Determined to bring it down, she braced herself and tried to lift it. It barely moved. Frowning, she adjusted her grip and gave it another tug, expecting it to slide free. It didn't. Instead, her foot slipped on the dusty wooden floor.

A startled gasp escaped her as her balance gave away. Her breath caught as she crumbled backwards, hands grasping at empty air.

She felt the world spinning, everything went slow and silent for that moment.

Before she could hit the floor, strong arms wrapped around her, catching her just in time. Ethan.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Grace's hand gripped his shoulders, her pulse racing. He held her firmly, their faces almost touching.

His gaze locked into hers, unreadable, intense. The air between them shifted, heavy with something unspoken.

Her breath hitched. Ethan's fingers flexed slightly against her waist, his gaze flickered to her lips for half a second before he looked away, inhaling sharply.

Just as quickly as it happened, he helped her back to her feet and took a step back.

Grace swallowed hard, breaking the silence with a shaky laugh. "Well... That was dramatic."

Ethan smiled softly. "Yeah. Maybe next time, let me move the heavy stuff"

She rolled her eyes brushing dust from her jeans. "I had it under control."

His gaze flickered to her. "Sure you did."

They decided to ignore what had happened, with their hearts still pounding.

Ethan pointed towards the chest. "You still want to see what's inside?".

Grace nodded. "Yeah. Let's get it downstairs."

They brought it down successfully and knelt down in front of it.

She crouched down, fingers hesitating over the tarnished brass latch before finally flipping it open. The lid creaked as she lifted it, revealing its contents beneath a layer of dust and faded fabric.

Inside, neatly stacked, were old letters tied with a silk ribbon, a leather-bound journal, and a delicate locket with an intricate floral engraving. Grace carefully picked up the locket, rubbing her thumb over the design. She pressed the clasp, and it popped open to reveal a tiny, sepia-toned photograph of her grandmother as a young woman, smiling beside a man Grace didn't recognize.

She swallowed hard. "This was hers…"

Ethan leaned in slightly. "Looks like she kept it hidden up here."

Grace set the locket aside and reached for the journal. The leather was cracked with age, the pages yellowed but still intact. She carefully flipped through it, skimming faded ink scrawled in elegant handwriting.

Her breath caught as she read a name.

"Eleanor."

She glanced at Ethan. "That was my grandmother's name."

He nodded toward the pages. "Maybe it'll tell you more about her past."

Ethan stood up reaching for his tool box. "This is personal to you. I should give you space."

Grace nodded. "Thanks for today Ethan"

Ethan smiled. "Sure."

After he left, Grace realized that they had been closer than either of them expected.