The one that broke straight through my chest.
I shook my head.
Tears falling freely now.
“No.”
Hersh sat completely still.
Like if he moved, the entire world might come apart around him.
“I wrote every week,” he said quietly.
“I know.”
His eyes snapped to mine instantly.
And that hurt too.
Because now he realized:
I knew exactly how much he loved me.
“I found them after my father died,” I whispered. “Sixteen months ago.”
The room felt too small for this kind of pain.
Hersh dragged one rough hand across his mouth slowly.
His breathing had changed.
Uneven now.
God.
I’d never seen him look wounded before.
Not truly.
Even as a teenager, Hersh had always been strong.
Steady.
Certain.
But this?
This hit somewhere deeper.
“I waited for you,” he whispered.
The tears came harder instantly.
Because Ihad waited too.
Every day.
Every week.
