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I didn’t know what to say to that.
Instead, I pressed my lips against his burns—or brands like he was calling them—and changed the
subject.
“I know this might sound morbid,” I said softly. “And it’s not something that you can remember,
but a couple of months before you left, you had a buddy that died over there.”
He didn’t say anything to that.
He couldn’t, because he couldn’t remember.
His shoulders did stiffen, though.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my face against his bare skin between his
shoulder blades.
“You didn’t tell me that you were doing it,” I told him. “Only after you’d already done it.”
“Done what?” he pushed.
“Well, a few things,” I said. “You made me the medical power of attorney should anything ever
arise with your death.”
He turned until he was facing me so that he could look into my eyes.
Those eyes, no longer like Luca’s but still somehow his, bored into me.
“You also made me executor of your will. Then you made me swear never to open your second
letter until I was completely graduated from school,” I said. “Do you think it’s okay to open that letter now?”
He frowned. “What letter?”
I pulled away from him almost reluctantly and walked to my purse where I’d kept that letter for a
long, long time.
He watched me walk back to him with it with his eyebrows raised.
“How many more letters do you have like that?” he asked as he watched me walk back toward
him.
“Not opened?” I asked. “Just this one. But I have the rest of the letters that you wrote me still in a locker at home. Do you want to read them?”
He nodded. “I do.”
I handed him over the letter, and he studied it for a long time before ripping it open.
He turned it to the side so that I could read it as well.
Frankie,
If you’re following directions—something that you rarely ever do, so kudos to you if you
