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Nora

MARCH

Vita!

My book is doing great! They're even planning signings and book fairs!

But still… I don't know, Dami… I still feel lost sometimes.

I have it all now. A career, some friends back, family… but that nagging feeling that I still need something more just won't leave me alone…

Guess I just miss you.

Nora

APRIL

It’s the second anniversary of Damiano’s death, and I’ve brought his letter to our tree in Chicago. The place where he first kissed me and where I scattered part of his ashes.

“I’m here, Vita.”

Anniversaries are the worst. You may try your best to ignore them, pretend it’s just any other day, but your body knows, your soul remembers.

I think the best thing is to just let it wash over you. Don’t fight the big waves. Just wait until the storm is over.

The bitch called grief sits next to me as I slowly open the letter Damiano left me.

Tears fall onto the paper as I start to read.

Hi, Vita.

I know some time must have passed before you read this. Because I know you.

“Bastard.” I laugh through my tears.

And you’re a beautiful, stubborn creature, so you probably battled with life itself, using teeth and nails, refusing to give in before you even gave the truth a chance to speak.

But here it is.

If you’re reading this, then maybe you’re finally ready to hear what I’m about to tell you.

I roll my eyes, because this is so him. God I think sometimes he knew me even better than I knew myself.

Oh, don’t give me that face.

I laugh out loud.

I know you’re making it.

I know you love me.

You’ve been the best wife and the best friend I could have ever asked for. And if there were any way for me to avoid death, I would pay whatever price was asked of me.

I would give anything to stay with you.

To see you carry our children.

To become parents with you.