Page 257 of The Clock and the Carnival

I don’t know when my children will be back again. A part of me hopes it isn’t for a while, so that I have time to put myself back together when I tell them their mother went to heaven.

But today, I hold her hand until I lower her into the ground, kissing her wedding ring before I let her go. And even then, I still don’t leave.

After seventy years of loving my beautiful Skylenna Winter Ambrose Valdawell, I will stay close until I’m old and gray.

And even then.

85. The Pawn and The Puppet

Dessin

One Hundred Years Old

Letter #3,977

Dear Skylenna,

Today marks thirty years without my girl by my side.

Last night, Krimson asked me, Dad, if you knew the day Mom was going to pass away, what would you change?

What do you think my answer was, baby?

Not a damn thing.

I get to go to sleep every night at peace with the man you helped shaped me into. Why? Because I gave my wife everything she wanted. I was not one of those Emerald Husbands that ignored the mother of their children, neglect, and treat her lesser than. I get to go to sleep every night knowing that I worshipped the woman I fell in love with. I never let a day go by without bringing you flowers, giving you lots of kisses, and telling you how absolutely stunning you looked.

I never took you for granted. Not a single day in our marriage. Not a single moment since the day I locked eyes with you in the thirteenth room of that asylum.

Now, with all that said, I miss you terribly.

I didn’t realize how euphoric your laugh was until I’d never hear it again. Kane has not resurfaced since the day he buried you. But he does live a comfortable life in the inner world, dreaming of the day we all get to see you again.

I’m going to try and keep writing these letters, but my hand isn’t as strong as it once was, and writing has become a tormenting chore. I’d ask Krimson or Sapphire to write them for me, but I don’t think I will. There is something precious and private about letters from a husband mourning his wife, don’t you think? Something that should stay whispered between the two of us.

So, I apologize, baby. This may be one of the last letters I’ll ever write you.

I’ve continued adding to the castle in ways I thought you’d like. Different additions I know would have made you smile. I’ve built in almost every single letter I wrote you into the walls. And then added the ones you wrote me when I was in the coma.

I’m not ashamed to say I’ve read those letters thousands of times since you’ve moved on without me. They’ve kept me going. In the cold winter nights when I needed to feel the warmth of your body next to mine, I’d read your letter about being too warm when you were pregnant. On the mornings I’d visit your grave and didn’t know how to leave, I’d read a letter.

Thank you for writing them. I know they were born out of the darkest days in your life, but please know…they’ve kept me alive during mine.

Marilynn passed on a few nights ago. She asked Krimson to take her back a few decades to when she was pregnant with Niklaus. Krimson warned her that traveling to a time when she was already alive would be fatal. But Marilynn was on her deathbed. She said she wanted to pass on in the arms of her soul mate. And that’s exactly what she did. Krimson watched from a distance as an elderly Marilynn woke Niles in the middle of the night and asked that he hold her.

Ruth and Warrose are still kicking. He is far too stubborn to die without her. I wouldn’t be surprised if they go at the exact same time, holding hands, warm in their bed.

How badly I wish that’s how we met our end. But God had other plans for us.

Thirty years without you. And I’d do it all again to make sure these roles weren’t reversed. You have been through too much to be in my shoes right now. You watched me die with that sickle slicing through my back. You raised our babies for twenty-one years without me there to hold your hand and carry you through the hard days.

I’ve spent these years caring for your castle. Playing with our grandchildren. Giving Sapphire and Krimson advice. Watching your garden grow. Reading books that could fill a hundred libraries.