He kept a box, just a small one, of items which had followed him from broken marriage to car, to city after city, bar after bar, and finally to the apartment in Los Angeles which was slowly beginning to feel like home. This box didn't hold masterpieces or precious jewelry, but treasures of the heart. He had one of Sam's first drawings, the photograph taken of him and Maggie when Sam was born, photos of their happy life before, and a tiny little pearl.
That pearl, so incongruous under all the glossy paper, held a special place in his heart. He'd been fighting with Maggie after they lost Sam, both of them so lost that they might as well have been on separate continents rather than separate bedrooms, and he'd just decided to file for divorce when he came across the little white pearl in his drawer. Nate remembered exactly when it had been dislodged from its post.
He'd bought the pearl earrings for their fifth anniversary and thought that they looked perfect when Maggie wore them to dinner. After dinner, though, they'd both gotten a little exuberant; both sets of clothing had small tears where impatient hands had simply pulled rather than unstick a zipper or manipulate a tiny button, both bodies bore more than one bite mark the next day which lead to both sporting blushes when a twinge brought back memories, and this one little pearl had popped loose in all the chaos. When Maggie found it under their bed the next day, she'd proudly placed it on their dresser and dragged him upstairs for an encore.
Years later, when he found it in his drawer, Nate couldn't help but take it with him and treasure the memories they'd made. He had proof that once upon a time life had been perfect and happy, and he tried to keep faith that someday it would be happy again.