When that day comes, when you’re absolutely sure he’s the one you’re supposed to be with, give him the red envelope at the back of this box.
I may never have been in love, but I’ve witnessed more of it than most ever get to.
People think of hospitals as being full of only sickness and sadness — patients dying, relatives mourning. But they’re wrong. I’ve spent a good part of the last five years in and out of hospitals, first in Jackson and now here in Atlanta. Of course I’ve seen the grief and the illness and the death here. That’s all you’ll see on surface level. Look a little deeper, though, and those things are insignificant compared to the immense love that fills the walls of these buildings.
The baby wards, where new parents hold their little bundles close and plan out bright futures full of joy. The hopeful families who keep smiles on their faces in spite of the odds. The ones who’ve traveled around the world to hold the hand of a loved one who’s lying in a sickbed with a fate unknown.
That’s love.
There are all kinds of love in this world, sis. Great loves and little loves. The fleeting ones, and the ones that last a lifetime. I might be dead, and you might be a crazy person fueled by far too much estrogen, but I love you more than anything.
Well, actually, that’s a little dramatic… Maybe not more than anything. But more than most things. More than Cadbury chocolate bars and all of my favorite sports teams.More thanSophia Vergarathose really great popsicles they give out during chemo sessions.
Keep your chin up. Things will get better. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even this year — but someday.
You’ll find that great love again.
Until then, know that I love you.
Jamie
Bash looked over at me with a film of tears in his eyes. “I miss him,” he said, his voice rough.
I nodded. “Me too. Every day.”
He slipped his hand into mine and squeezed lightly.
“He wrote 100 letters.” I stared at the box. “But only 99 of them are for me.”
Bash’s grip tightened on mine, his eyes following my free hand as I reached toward the back of the box and pulled out a bright red, sealed envelope. The script on the front was simple, two short words that held so much significance.
FOR HIM
With trembling fingers, I passed the envelope to Bash and looked up to meet his eyes. “There’s no one else I would ever give this letter to,” I whispered. “I’ve never even been tempted. It felt like…” I took a deep breath. “Well, like Jamie would’ve wanted you to have it, more than anyone else.”
Bashinhaled sharply. His fingers gripped the red envelope tightly and his gaze was riveted on my face as I continued to speak.
“Jamie told me to wait until I was absolutely certain that I’d found the one I’m supposed to be with in this life. But I think he knew, all along, that the person I was supposed to be with was you.” I leaned in and brushed my lips against Bash’s. Pulling back slightly, I stared into his eyes. “I’ll be honest — I didn’t fall in love with you again during these last few weeks,” I told him.
His brows rose and he opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off.
“Because I never fell out of love in the first place,” I whispered, reaching up to cup his jaw with one hand. “You had my heart for all these years — you still have it, Bash.”
He pushed a lock of hair behind my ear and pulled me close. “About time you admitted it,” he whispered, his smiling lips pressed against my ear.
“I’m sorry it took me so long.” I looked into his eyes, my own smile spreading across my face. “I love you. I never stopped.”
He kissed me then, and it was as if, for a few moments, my world ceased to turn, my heart stopped its beating, and everything just…froze. I knew it was one of those perfect moments I’d remember for the rest of my life.
A flashbulb memory, capturing the exact point in time that the past fell away and my future with Bash began.
When we broke apart, Bash opened Jamie’s envelope with reverence, taking extra care not to tear the paper. He pulled out a single sheet from inside, and his eyes scanned it for several minutes. I watched his face as he read the document through once, then a second time, his eyes narrowing as they poured over each line.
As more time passed, I began to grow nervous. What had Jamie put in that letter? Some kind of brotherly threat, intended to protect me? An embarrassing story from my childhood, meant to warn off any potential suitors?
When Bash finally lowered the letter and turned to look at me, his eyes were strange — guarded and intense — and his words were careful. “You should read this,” he said, passing me the letter before he rose to his feet and walked to the bank of windows to look out over the cityscape below. I felt my heart turn over in my chest as I watched him walk away, gripping the thin paper between my fingertips so hard I feared it might rip apart.
I forced myself to breathe before looking down at the sheet in my hands.