Their spot.
Their sanctuary within the cruel walls they’d grown up behind.
The gigantic tree looked the same as it did the last time Wren saw it. A decade meant little in a life that spanned centuries. The branches had barely felt the passage of it, or the absence of the two of them. They’d been a home to birds and bugs and forgotten all about them. But there were traces of them still there.
In the little nest-like platform Wren had built. In the stick figures they’d carved and placed around it to decorate it. In the small shiny things Wren’s crows would bring them, and the remains of old blankets and pillows torn apart by the animals and the elements they were exposed to.
“I missed this place,” Wren said, realizing it no longer ached to be there the way it had after Teddy left. “I tried coming here afteryou were gone, but it wasn’t the same without you. It wasn’t safe anymore, for my heart or my sanity.”
“I’m sorry,” Teddy whispered, and Wren squeezed his hand.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Maybe.” Teddy shrugged. “But it hurt you and I am sorry for any pain you were forced to feel. I wish I could turn back time. I wish we could go back to that moment and relive the years that were stolen from us.”
“Me too,” Wren said softly. “But we have time now. We have the rest of our lives, and I guess we’ll have to make that count.”
“Come here,” Teddy said, sitting down on the prickly branch floor, resting his back against the rough trunk and beckoning Wren over until he was sitting between his legs, head on his chest.
Wren felt a soft hiss at his temple and nuzzled closer, wrapping Teddy’s arms around his waist.
“You know I wrote to you.”
“Mhm.” Wren nodded, warm at the thought of Teddy putting his words down on paper for him, despite thinking he’d never get to read them.
“I wished, so many times, that I could tell you in person instead of writing, and so…I thought maybe I could read them to you now. Maybe I could read you one letter a day until we’re all caught up. Until the past blends with the present and we are where we would have been if they’d never forced us apart. One letter a day until we have a lifetime together. Until you know all of my days without you as if you were with me.”
Wren’s eyes watered and he nodded, lifting one of Teddy’s hands to kiss the back of it. “I would love that.”
Teddy kissed his hair. “I brought the first letter.”
“You planned this?” Wren asked.
Teddy gave a small shrug as he pulled a yellowed, worn envelope from his pocket. “I might have. I wrote this one after my first night at the house in Arcstead. It…it isn’t a happy one.”
“No, but it’s real,” Wren said. “And knowing we get a happy ending will help.”
“I love you,” Teddy declared softly, for the world and for himself. “I always have and I always will.”
“You are mine,” Wren said. “Always.”
Teddy ripped the envelope open and pulled Wren closer.
Little Bird,
It’s my first night away from Nexus and all I can think about is you. By now you’ve realized I’m gone, and as much as I know you’re hurting, I can’t help but wish you’d forget about me as soon as possible. Because if the pain you’re feeling is even a fraction of mine, I don’t want you to feel it.
I wanted to say so many things to you. I thought we’d have more time, even when I could see the sand trickling down on us. I fooled myself into thinking I would get the chance. To tell you how beautiful you are. To tell you how much better the world is with you in it. To tell you how much I love you. I carry you with me, Wren, and I will carry you with me forever. But maybe you won’t have to. Maybe your heart and mind will let you let me go.
Maybe you will get a chance to be happy without me.
It’s all I want for you.
To be happy.
Yours forever,
Teddy
