Letter - I

"Time makes us stronger."

As Chloe stirred from her sleep, she noticed the fading light of dusk seeping through the window, accompanied by the soft patter of raindrops tapping against the walls.

Rubbing her eyes, she glanced over to the couch and saw it vacant, devoid of any signs of occupancy, as if it had never been slept on.

Letting out a sleepy yawn, her gaze fell upon a crisp envelope resting neatly on the cushions. With a tired sigh, she dragged herself out of bed, her footsteps sluggish as she made her way to the couch. Sinking onto the cushions, she gingerly picked up the envelope and carefully tore it open, revealing a letter inside.

As she unfolded the letter, her brows furrowed in confusion. "What's this?" she mumbled to herself, her voice hoarse from sleep.

Reading the first line itself she knew it was from her grandpa.

Hey monkey,

If you're reading this, I'm not around, but I bet you're still enjoying your daily dose of hot chocolate, right?

I'm not upset, I'm actually glad to know you're out there living your life, even if it's not exactly how I envisioned it. I'm sure you've faced your fair share of challenges, shed a few tears, and found solace in sleep.

But now, let's get down to business. There's something important I need to discuss with you. I know it's not an easy conversation to have, especially since you've never asked much about your parents.

But that's not all there is to it. It's my responsibility to fill you in on everything, even though you've been sheltered from certain truths. Frankly, I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed trying to figure out where to start.

Is my handwriting getting messy? Absolutely.

Do you know why? Because I'm scared. Scared to think about what will happen to you when I'm no longer here. How will you cope? But you've got your mother's courage and your father's intellect. You'll find a way.

Truth be told, I've been stuck in a rut since Jack and Rose passed away. But then you entered my life, and suddenly, I started feeling things again. I started feeling happy. Lately, though, I sense a distance growing between us, like you're slipping away.

I miss our nightly story sessions, making hot chocolate together, and watching Westerns until we drifted off to sleep.

But I understand you're growing up and changing. And that scares me. I don't want things to change, but I know I can't stop time. Life keeps moving, whether we like it or not. It brings pain, sadness, and unexpected joy.

So, keep growing, kid. Make mistakes and learn from them. When life knocks you down, remember that pain means you're out of the cave. But, if you could do me a favor, just give me a heads up when you start dating and bring a guy home, and don't forget the three-inch rule for the door-

.

.

As she read the letter, she suddenly stopped, and a look of pain appeared on her face. The words he had written were difficult for her to bear, as each one seemed to hurt her heart with a cruel truth. He had written them intending to anchor her, of keeping her tethered to him while he was away so that she wouldn't drift into oblivion.

She put the letter aside with a heavy sigh and closed her eyes, trying to control her emotions. A familiar breeze brushed against her cheek, carrying its usual scent. She didn't need to open her eyes to know who had entered the room. Despite the turmoil in her heart, his presence brought her some comfort.

"Why... why keep this from me?" Her voice trembled with pain as she finally broke the heavy silence.

"It wasn't wise at that time," he muttered, his response came in a gruff, familiar tone, muffled slightly, his own emotions evident in his voice.

Opening her eyes, she found him standing beside the window, with folded hands on his chest, in morning clothes with a mask on his face. He had his forest greens fixated on her form as she continued:

"I know it might not have mattered much to you, but those words were my lifeline back then. I was lost, barely holding on. I needed reassurance, something to cling to. Why did you take that away?"

Her voice trembled with emotion, her brow furrowing as tears welled up in her eyes.

He approached her slowly, lowering himself to her eye level as she sat on the couch. With a gentle touch, he reached out, wiping away her tears, flaring the sparks on touch between them.

"I took them because I saw how fragile you were that night. Watching you struggle these past months, I wanted you to find your strength, to stand up for yourself instead of crumbling under the weight of it all, especially after what happened to him."

Her mind raced back to the image of her grandfather, sprawled in a pool of crimson. A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled the scene. Her throat tightened, parched with fear. She could not bring herself to speak, so she simply nodded, letting the silence settle between them like a heavy blanket.

It was the longest sentence he had uttered in her presence, perhaps in anyone's presence in this century.

"Did it—" she began, her voice tentative.

"It worked," his deep voice interjected, answering the question she hadn't fully formed yet. His words almost knocked her off balance. There was a ruggedness to his accent that added to the intrigue she felt towards him.

"What about you? What happened? I need to know everything," she demanded, her eyes filled with determination.

"And you will," he assured.

"WAIT," She ordered as he prepared to leave, she reached out and grabbed his hand.

Rising onto her knees on the couch, she lost her balance, teetering dangerously forward. Quick as lightning, he caught her, his strong arm wrapping around her waist to steady her.

Her body collided with his ...