His arms tighten around me.
He’s gone.
The bed is empty. The room is empty. My chest is empty.
He left while I slept.
I force myself out of bed.
It’s just one month, Wen. You’ve waited through longer, more uncertain times. One more month is nothing.
I walk to my table. A folded paper sits there. I pick it up, unfold it.
Good morning, Princess,
I’m leaving. I wanted to wake you, to say goodbye, but I couldn’t find the strength.
I don’t want to go. I never said that because it would only make you sadder. You know what it feels like without you? It’s like being locked in an empty, dark room. Nothing remains worth keeping my eyes open for.
I saw the journal you asked me to take. I read a few letters just now. I should leave—the sun’s coming up—but it’s so hard. I want to steal a few more minutes of you, here, in front of me, before I go back to that darkness.
In your first letter, you wrote that you believe I love you. You asked when I fell for you.
I don’t know when it happened. I only know I didn’t want to. I wanted to hate you, but it was impossible. I tried to give myself every reason, but you were never an argument I could win. And now there’s nothing left of me that isn’t you.
The sun’s rising. I have to go.
But I’ll come back in a month. And this time, I won’t leave you.
Don’t be sad.
Don’t cry.
Keep smiling.
I love you.
Only yours,
Salvario De Falco
I’m smiling through my tears.
My Salvario De Falco.
Yes. He’s mine.
Just one month between us. I can wait. One last time.
And then we’ll be together. Forever.
I fold the letter carefully and place it in the golden box, next to the roses.
After my shower, I pull on a high-neck tee and shorts and head downstairs.
Today, all the staff is back—Ma and Pa will arrive by afternoon. I reach the kitchen and find Wendy there, positively glowing. She grins wide as I approach.
“So... how was your week?” I ask, matching her grin.
