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“I don’t know why you like me,” I murmur more to myself than him.
“We’ll get married one day,” he says.
My breath hitches in my throat, I laugh at him to hide the shock.
“Don’t laugh, I’m serious. I even saw it in my dream.”
Looking at him, I finally smile and nod. “I want to be your girlfriend.”
I smile through the tears and the lump in my throat. We were so young, but I can still feel what I felt that day. Years that have passed didn’t change my emotions about him, only made them stronger, harder, sharper. I’m so shaken by the intensity I feel after reading a memory that happened decades ago.
Putting my diary back in the drawer, I grab the envelope he gave me. Again. I want to ignore it and devour every little detail at the same time.
Finally, with a sigh, I rip open the envelope; my hands are shaking with anxiety.
Dear Nikki,
It’s kind of comical that the day you get your freedom is the day I lost mine. But that’s not important.
You’re free now. That’s all that matters.
I knew something was wrong when you didn’t show up to meet me. I knew you would make it whenever you had a chance. I’ve waited for you for months, Nikki, but you didn’t show up, not even once.
I was almost obsessed with seeing you. There was a bad feeling inside me. I tried to get inside a few times, but they didn’t let me. I wanted to see the Priest, but they didn’t let me. It was awkward, Nikki.
One night, I was determined to stay until the sunrise. I must have fallen asleep as I waited for you at some point, but I was woken up by a gunshot. Then, everything was chaos. You were covered in blood. The Father was dead. I tried to come to the hospital with you, I tried to reach you, but someone held me back.
I begged the Sheriff to let me see you, but he didn’t let me. He said they were still investigating things. I sneaked into the hospital once, you were asleep. I kissed you then. I don’t know why I did it. I think I hoped you would wake up, but you didn’t, and I got caught.
I couldn’t visit you again in the hospital.
When I could see you again, you were already behind bars, and they weren’t the only thing that stood between us.
Yours,
Nick.
Chapter 12
Past
Age 11
Fifteen minutes later.
Under your window.
I miss you.
N
I smile when I see his message just under the frame of my window.
“Veronica!”
I quickly put his note back in its place when I hear my mom’s voice.
“Veronica! Clean the kitchen, I’m going to pray.”
