A Thousand Letters

I was whole again in his arms.

He held me tight, and I thought he might feel it was a dream too, as if we could hang on to each other and make everything all right, erase the past. I'd imagined it a hundred times, remembered a hundred moments like this, but different; this moment was pure, the honesty breaking me and healing me as we lay beneath the stars, spinning silently in the center.

"I'm scared," he whispered, his breath stirring my hair where his cheek pressed, warm and alive.

"I know," I answered, because I was scared too. And he held me in the dark in the silence until our hearts beat together and our minds slowed, slipping away into the solace of sleep.



Wade

The sun hadn't yet risen when I woke, but she was still in my arms, her body pressed against mine, our legs wound together. It had been so long, so very long, and I didn't want to breathe, didn't want to move for fear I'd wake her and the moment would end.

We'd said nothing, and we'd said everything, and I knew she understood me, understood how I felt, what I wanted, what I needed. We were connected, as much now as we'd ever been. Because with her in my arms, I knew she was all that mattered.

She had to know that I loved her, must have felt that love in the same way I'd felt her love for me, transmitted through her touch, through every breath.

But I wanted to tell her, wanted to speak the words, and as I held her in the early rays of dawn, I formed them in my mind, imagined the admission, reciting the things I needed to say. The things she needed to hear.

She stirred against my chest and sighed, and I squeezed her, slipping my hand into her dark hair, holding her against me.

We lay that way for a while, quiet, still until light slipped slowly into the room, and Dad coughed from behind us.

Elliot pulled away slowly and met my eyes, a flash of understanding in their depths with a smile full of promises before she stood and moved to his bed. He was still half in sleep, eyes listing lazily as he took in his surroundings and smiled.

"You took me camping, Elliot," he said, reaching for her face to cup her cheek.

"We did. And that's not all."

He smiled wider. "More surprises?"

"More surprises."

"Something to look forward to."

I stood and moved to the bed to sit on the edge. "Morning, Dad."

"My boy. Thank you."

"Did you sleep well?"

"I liked having you all here with me. Made the night less lonely, less foreign."

My chest ached. "Well, maybe we'll make a habit of it."

"I wouldn't complain."

Elliot checked her watch and her bottom lip slipped between her teeth. "Would you mind if I ran home and helped out with the kids for a bit? I'll be back around lunch."

"Not at all," Dad said, patting her hand. "We'll be here."

Her eyes met mine and looked down, her cheeks flushing, sweet lips smiling gently, innocent and beautiful. "All right. I'll be back in a few hours, okay?"

"Can't wait," he answered and yawned.

"I'll walk you out." I followed her as she collected her things, pulling on her coat and hat as we stood silently in the foyer.

All of the things I wanted to say piled up in my throat, and my fears seeped in again, exposed by the daylight. It wasn't the right time or the right place. I should have told her last night, I thought, chastising myself for wasting my chance as she took her time situating her hat, waiting for me to speak.

But I couldn't. There would be time, but that time wasn't now, in the hallway, as she was trying to leave.

"I … I'll see you in a little while, Elliot." I hoped she heard the meaning, the promise in my words.

She nodded and smiled, the tension between us almost unbearable as she turned for the door. "All right, Wade."

She walked out the door, and I'd lost the chance completely, stupidly, cowardly. But I was already planning the moment when I could tell her how I felt, when I would tell her everything.

I only hoped she'd forgive me.





14





Chasm





The wind

That blows across the chasm

Between us

Pierces my soul.



* * *



-M. White





* * *



Elliot

I sat with the kids as they ate lunch, musing over all that had happened in a lovely haze.

The night before was still on my mind, in my heart, occupying my thoughts. I had the shining sensation that everything would be all right, somehow, some way. He touched my hand and wiped away the past. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me back into his heart. He whispered to me in the dark and gave me hope.

I hadn't wanted to leave, but I'd been away from the kids and knew the little window would do Wade and me good. It was too much to process — I needed time to collect my thoughts, my feelings, so we could talk. Maybe we could go for a walk, go back to the cascade. Maybe he would kiss me under the bridge. Maybe everything would be all right.

My heart skittered in my chest at the maybes, the hopefullys, the daydreams of a future after I thought all I'd wanted was lost.

So I'd floated through the morning with the kids in the quiet house. Charlie was locked in the office working, and Mary was shopping with Dad and Beth. The little bit of normalcy was welcome.

The kids were almost finished eating when someone knocked on the door, and Charlie trotted up the stairs from the first floor to answer it. I heard Jack's voice when the door opened, and my heart jumped anxiously. I'd forgotten about him completely — the whole of me was focused on Wade.

They walked into the kitchen, laughing as they passed the threshold of the room, and I smiled at them as I cleaned up.

"Hey, Elliot," Jack said, smiling sheepishly with his hands in the pockets of his coat.

"Hey," I echoed as Charlie walked by, grabbing a grape as he passed the dish on the counter. He tossed it up in the air and into his mouth.

"Heading back to Rick's?" Charlie asked.

I nodded. "I was going to put the kids down for a nap first."

He waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. I've got it."

"Thanks, Charlie." I dunked a bowl into the bubbly sink water and scrubbed it.

Jack pulled off his coat and walked over to the sink, grabbing a dishtowel. "How did it go last night?"

My only thoughts were of Wade, of his hands and skin, the smell of him mingled with pine and campfire. "Rick was so surprised, so happy. It was a good night."

"That's great." I could hear him smiling as he spoke — my eyes were on my hands.

"Thank you so much for lending your gear." I rinsed the bowl and passed it to him to dry. His fingers grazed mine, and my stomach flipped with surprise at the contact. "I didn't know you'd be stopping by or I would have brought it back with me."

"Oh, it's fine. I didn't expect it back just yet, just wanted to stop by and see how the night was."

"Thanks to you, he had a wonderful time. I haven't heard him laugh so much in a long time."

The front door opened, followed by chatter and the rustling of bags and footfalls.

I exchanged a look with Charlie, who grabbed the baby wipes and began the task of wiping the kids up.

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