Dear Rosie, (Love Letters #2)

I was going to talk to her about it this morning.

I was going to hold her in bed and tell her it would all be okay.

I was going to make her understand that we would be okay.

I race to the bedroom door.

The handle clicks when I turn it.

She locked it?

I rip the door open.

And immediately I know…

She’s gone.

The walls press in on me as I jog down the hall.

“Rosie!”

But she doesn’t answer, because she’s not here.

Charles jumps onto the island, and I glance at him, then turn my attention to the counter.

The notebook I used last night is still out, but it’s turned to a different page. A new one, filled with words.

I don’t think I can survive another one of Rosie’s letters.

But I also can’t do anythingbutread it.

With anxiety clinging to every cell in my body, I pick up the notebook.

Dear Nathan,

I’m sorry I never told you.

I don’t know how or why, but I’m sorry you found out this way. And I hope you’ll understand why I couldn’t tell you.

I wanted to.

I wanted to tell you everything, but I knew that once I did, it would be over.

And even though I knew it was coming, I didn’t want it to be over.

If you feel like you have to call the police, I won’t blame you. But I won’t be at my apartment.

I was ready to die back then. But I’m not ready for that anymore.

You’ve given me so much. And I will never be able to thank you enough.

But you told me not to pretend.

And that’s all this ever was.

You were always a pretend comfort for me, and I never should have crossed that line into reality.

We were only meant to be letters in a box.