Dear Rosie, (Love Letters #2)

I want to ask how long he’s been here.

Want to ask if he’s alright.

If that look on his face is for me.

But then someone walks past the door, causing the light to shift in the room. And my attention is drawn to the other chair.

To the shoebox sitting next to Nathan.

It’s like a mirage.

A terrible mirage.

Because I know that box.

My heart clenches.

No.

No, no, no.

He can’t have those.

“Those—Those aren’t for you,” I whisper.

Nathan shakes his head. “They are for me. You wrote them for me.”

My heart feels like it’s about to stop.

He…

I think about everything I wrote in those letters.

I think about all the awful secrets I’ve kept for so long.

The shame.

Maybe he didn’t read them all.

But I know he did.

Of course he did.

“I’m sorry.” Nathan’s voice breaks. “I wish I’d known… The address.”

He sounds shattered.

And I hate it.

All my fears.

All the reasons I tried to keep my distance.

They all come crashing down around me.

His voice hitches, and it’s everything I didn’t want.

I didn’t want him to take on my darkness.