He stands up, moves toward the door like he can't bear to be in the same room with himself anymore.
"All the letters are in there," he says quietly, gesturing to the box. "All seventy-three of them. Plus some CDs. You were never anything but everything to him."
"Ollie—"
"Read them," he says. "And then decide what you want to do. But at least make that decision with all the information this time. At least know that when Nate said he'd wait for you, he meant it."
He opens the door, pauses.
"I'm sorry," he says. "For all of it. For—" his voice breaks, "—for costing you seven years with the only person you've ever really loved."
"Ollie—"
"My flight leaves in an hour. Mia will kill me if I'm not on it."
He walks over to me and wraps his arms around me just like he used to do when we were kids.
"Don't let him go.”
“Why?”
“Because he looks at you, the way dad used to look at mom.”
My heart falters.
“And you can’t let my mistake be the end of the greatest love story there ever was."
The door closes behind him and I'm alone with the parcel. I stare at it before I finally decide to open it and letters are bursting out of it. Some tied with faded ribbon, some loose, some in envelopes that look like they've been opened and resealed.
My vision blurs with tears.
And then I start to read.
CHAPTER 42
THE LETTERS
NATE
Week 1:
Len,
I'm writing this at 3 AM because sleep feels impossible and my counselor said writing might help.
He said I should write to someone that matters.
So here I am.
Writing to you.
I never realized how much you felt like home until I found myself in a place where everything is designed to be uncomfortable.
They strip away all your coping mechanisms here. All your defenses. All the ways you've learned to not feel things.
And underneath all of that?
I just keep finding you.
