Chapter 257
My love,
I can’t believe we’re at letter 300 already. My hand is cramping and my handwriting has seen better days.
But all it does is just put everything into perspective. You’ll be gone long time. Too long for my heart. I can’t persuade it that I will be fine while you’re in Florence.
Have I ever talked to you about my nightmares? I have nightmares sometimes. I guess you know that already, since they plague you,
too.
But I just want to tell you what they’re about, Before I met you, mos nights, I dreamed about the accident. It was like I was trapped there, in that split second, forever. I hear my mom’s voice warning me. I smell gasoline. I feel the crunch of metal all around me.
And the worst part? In the nightmare, I have time to move. Time to stop it. But I don’t. I just hold on to the wheel, frozen. And she
dies because of it.
Because of me.
I know you know what that feels like, the smell, the guilt that doesn’t make sense but clings to you anyway. Maybe that’s why I recognized you before I even knew your name. Maybe pain knows pain.
When I met you, though, my nightmares changed. It wasn’t about the crash anymore. It was about you. Nightmares where you
looked at me and saw everything broken inside me.
Nightmares where you turned away. Nightmares where I couldn’t reach you no matter how hard I tried. Nightmares where you were the one in the car, beside me.
The one that didn’t survive. Nightmares, terrible nightmares where lost you, too.
There were nights I woke up drenched in sweat, convinced I’d failed you somehow, even though you were miles away, perfectly fine.
I used to wonder if that’s all I was meant to do, to fail the people I loved. I failed my mother, and by extension, I failed my father and my brother.
I was sure I would live the rest of my life alone, whispered about when my dad and Aiden would meet up with their families for
Christmas or whatever.
I thought I would never be happy again.
But then, you started trusting me. You leaned on me. You said you loved me. And somewhere along the line, my nightmares tu. into something else.
Dreams. Dreams about a future. About a little house with a white picket fence. About kids running around the backyard, barefoot and laughing.
Fuck, do you even want kids? I hope you do. You’d make beautiful ones. If they look like you, I hope they do. I hope they look just like you.
Dreams about coming home to you every night. Eating dinner at a messy table. Sitting next to you on the couch, our kids playing around us, but not bothering us, because listening to them makes you happy.
Looking at you makes me happy.
1/3
Chapter 257
Loving each other like crazy. Fighting sometimes, because we’re stubborn, but always coming back together, because that’s what love
- is.
We can do that, Alina. We can build a family that’s different from the ones we came from. One where love isn’t earned. One where it’s home. You’re already my home. You always have been.
I hope you think of me as your home. If you ever doubt where you belong, know that you are mine, even when you are half a world
away.
Zaid
I set the letter down slowly, my fingers brushing the pages as if they could carry his voice to my ears. The soft breeze blows through my hair, and I close my eyes and throw my head back.
I can’t help the smile that blooms across my face. Kids with Zaid. Half him, half me. He thinks about it, like, really thinks about it. He wants this. He wants me, and my future.
I chew on my lip, staring out at the busy street from the little cafe table where I’m sitting. I’ve thought about it before. What my kids might look like. I disagree with him, though.
I want our kids to look like him. Dark eyes and messy hair. I want them to have his capacity to love and to be free in it. With a contented sigh, I lean back in my chair and imagine their little feet pounding down the hallway.
I imagine Zaid, chasing after them, laughing in that way he used to save only for me.
“You’re smiling like you’ve got a secret,” Noah says from beside me, taking a sip of his coffee.
I tilt my head and look at him, deciding to pick his brain. “When are you going to ask my aunt to marry you?”
He laughs, the sound bright and easy. “I ask her every year. She tells me to wait another year. Your aunt is a stubborn woman.”
I blink at him. “Are you serious?”
He nods, lips pursed. “I’ve had the same ring for five years now.”
I smile, but then frown. “Does that bother you? I mean, her saying no. How does that make you feel?”
He shrugs, the picture of a man who is not bothered by this at all. It’s kind of surprising, actually. “It’s part of her spirit. She craves
the freedom her parents never gave her.”
I watch him as he frowns and leans closer.
“She’s told you of your grandparents?”
I nod a little. “She mentioned that they disowned my dad for marrying my mom. I think that tells me enough of what I need to
know.”
He tilts his head. “Well, she can tell you her stories and her struggles when she wants. All I know is that I’m just lucky she lets me
stay by her side.”
My smile grows. I like Noah. I really, really like him. Marriage or not I hope they stay together forever. Some love isn’t about a ring or a piece of paper.
It’s about staying. Choosing each other, again and again.
And I choose Zaid. I will always choose Zaid.
