Reading his limited words showed me just how much I was still in the dark about Oliver, and how much I wanted these letters to provide the answers that had kept me awake after he left.
I tore into the next one, desperate for closure or something other than a few lines about travelling the world.
Dear Grace,
I’m sorry. I thought that writing to you would ease this unrest within me that’s only grown since I left. It didn’t, and it just made me want to get in touch with you all the more. I promised I would leave and let you get on with your life, and here I am, breaking my promise. It seems that moving on is harder than I thought it would be.
I left China, and I’m now in Sri Lanka. It’s pretty amazing here. I’ve managed to get some bar work in a small hotel in Kalutara. Not strictly allowed under my tourist visa, but I won’t be here for much longer. Travelling around for a few weeks was what I came here for. The island has everything—white sand beaches, turquoise sea, history, culture, and jungle. It’s certainly on my list of places to come back in the future.
Take care of you,
Oliver.
Dear Grace,
The more I write, the more everything comes back. I abandoned you. I abandoned us—the three of us. That promise we made to each other so many years ago still haunts me. I should have found a way to make it work, at least tried to find a way out that wasn’t so drastic, perhaps. I made my decision with your best interests at heart, but I realise that it was my decision, not yours. I should have given you a say, and I took that from you. You may never forgive me for that. And if that’s the case, I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting my decision.
I’ve left Sri Lanka. While I’ve been travelling, moving around from place to place has been both exciting and hard. I miss knowing I have friends that will always be there for me. And I know that’s my doing. I’m sorry.
I’m sorry, Grace.
Oliver.
Dear Grace,
I don’t know if you’re reading these or not. I sometimes think it would be best if you didn’t, and that they can continue to be the secret confessions of Oliver Ray. But then you’d never know how much I miss you. Or see that it doesn’t matter where I travel to—you are always the one true constant in my world. My North Star. My gravity.
I ran away, Grace because I couldn’t bear it any longer, but now I see that it’s just as hard without you in my life.
My hope is that you’re happy, and by leaving, I allowed you to find your happiness.
Oliver.
Dear Grace,
I understand that I’ve not given you a way to reach out to me, even if you wanted to. But I’m back now. I couldn’t run from my job any longer, and I was broke. And now the biggest gamble—allowing you to know where I am.
I’m not doing this so you’ll magically appear at my door the moment you can make your way to me. But it’s unfair that I’d write to you, and burden you once again, this time with the guilt that has been eating away at me from the moment I left, and you have no way to come back at me. Maybe you’ve been writing hateful letters, just waiting for the time to send them. Or perhaps you’ve torn each word to shreds. All I do know is that I can’t run from my feelings for you. And believe me, I’ve travelled the world, and no matter what I do, I can’t escape how I feel for you. I love you, and I fear that will never change.
So, here’s where I am. Write to me if you want. But either way, it won’t stop me writing to you.
Love Oliver.
Dear Grace,
So, this sucks. I thought I was man enough to take the silent treatment. Turns out, I’m not. I had this grand vision in my brain that you wouldn’t have moved on, and that my letters would have you rushing back to me. Or some scenario like that. And I realise what a jerk I am to even think that way. But the truth is that I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. Distance isn’t going to change that, and now I know that time won’t either.
I’ll keep writing to you. And if you can see it in your heart to forgive me in the future, then you know where I am.
Love Oliver.
Dear Grace,
Happy Twenty-First Birthday! I know I’ve missed more than one of your birthdays now. I imagine us all around the table with a dish of freshly cooked lasagne and a huge cake for dessert. Some memories and traditions you don’t realise how much you miss until they’re not a part of your life anymore.
Be happy, Grace. It’s the only thing I can hold onto right now—that you’re happy and living your best life. That’s what I believe you’re doing. And I will work on living mine.
The summer is my favourite time of year because it encapsulates everything about you. Warmth, happiness, and comfort. Beautiful sunsets and bright morning skies. All of these things remind me of you.
I love you.
Oliver.
My cheeks were damp from the silent tears I’d shed while reading his letters. Each, a dagger to my heart. But the pain wasn’t the same as the pain that Maddison had caused. I could feel his—pulsing through my veins as if he were still a part of my very being.
Oliver’s words felt like an adventure we’d never got to act out. Destined to stay in the what-ifs of the lazy summers we spent with each other growing up. There was a feeling of loss, of grief, because I never confronted him about leaving. He’d taken that away by vanishing without a trace. And now I was angry that he thought I might come running back and forgive him.
The door clicked as I heard Mum arrive home. I’d lost hours, sitting here on my own.
“Mum, hi.” I swiped the salty droplets from my cheeks and pulled the letters together, bundling them up into the box they’d lived in until today. “You don’t mind me being here?”
“This is your home. Of course, I don’t.” She stared at the box she’d kept hidden from me. “You read them?”
I nodded. “Why didn’t you give these to me?” My voice was hoarse, thick with emotion.
“Because I didn’t want them to change the way you felt about Maddison. Those boys have been stuck in your heart since you were kids, and finally, things were working out for you.” She smoothed my hand, comforting me. “Did I make the wrong decision?”
The worry on her face was evident, and I knew that they wouldn’t have changed my mind. I’d chosen Maddison. I loved him. But my heart was broken, and I’d become lost in a relationship that I’d clung to for dear life.
Now, regardless of what Oliver’s words said, I choose me.
Chapter 24
Oliver 24 Years Old
It had been nearly three years since I’d seen Grace.
One hundred and twenty-seven weeks, thirty months, and almost one thousand days.
And it was killing me—a slow and torturous death, each day taking its own piece of my heart. I thought about the decision I’d made all those months ago, and the reasons behind it. The noble thing to do. The right thing. I’d been under no illusion that it would be easy when I said the words and left without looking back, but I’d hoped the pain would dull into an ache with time. That I would be able to look back with warmth and miss the times we were together as friends, not long to see her face in the flesh one last time.