Chapter 19
RAUL
…present day
"She wrote me back!" Carl yells, holding the letter over his head like he's just won the Golden Ticket.
He looks like an overexcited kid from Willy Wonka, vibrating with happiness.
Mail came through, but nothing was waiting for me. Not that I expected anything. I still haven't replied to Olivia.
I sit on my cot with my notepad open in my lap, staring at the half-finished scribbles from all the times I've tried and failed to turn my thoughts into something readable.
"Yeah? What'd she say?" I ask, letting out a low chuckle.
"I don't know yet, man. I'm scared to open it."
"You'll never know until you know."
I sound like such a hypocrite. But I'm definitely more of the do-as-I-say, not-as-I-do type.
He tears open the envelope.
Silence stretches between us as he reads.
Then he stops.
Just stares.
His eyes go bright, and for one wild second I think he's actually going to cry.
He hugs the letter to his chest like it's a love letter from the heavens.
"She loves me! She loves me!" he sings, twirling in place like an idiot.
I let out a low whistle and shake my head.
"That's a lot of words on a page for it to be that simple."
"Well," he says, grinning so hard it looks painful, "she said she misses me and she's gonna wait for me. And she ended it with 'Love,' so same thing."
I smile in his direction.
I've dreamt of Olivia almost every night since I got here. The regret eats at me in the dark, day after day, until it feels like it has become part of my skin.
She tried to break through my walls, to get me to open up. And every time she got one step closer, I shoved her six more steps back.
My heart belongs to her, whether I like it or not. And I've been cruel to her.
I glance down at my notebook again, knowing I have to do something. Anything. Before it's too late and I lose her for good.
My pen hits a fresh sheet of paper.
Olivia,
That part is easy.
Then I stop, my pen tapping against the page.
There's so much I want to say, but I can't find the right words.
Maybe that's the problem. The truth is there, raw and ugly, but I don't know how to hand it to her without making it sound like an excuse. It isn't one. It's just me, finally staring down the damage I've done and realizing I might not get another chance to fix it.
How do you apologize for every beat of silence, every stupid choice, every time someone tries to reach for you and you act like their hands burn?
I swallow hard and stare at the page until the words blur.
You tried with me. More than once. And every time you did, I made you pay for it.
I told myself it was easier that way. Safer.
Cleaner. If I didn't let you in, you couldn't see the mess underneath.
You couldn't see how much I wanted you, how badly I was already in too deep.
But that was never the truth. The truth was I wanted you close and I didn't know how to be the kind of man who deserved it.
My grip tightens around the pen.
I should've told you that when I had the chance. I should've looked at you like you mattered, because you do. More than I know how to say right now.
The pen hovers over the paper as my chest tightens.
I'm sorry.
It looks too small on the page. Too weak for everything it carries. So I stare at it, then keep going anyway.
Sorry for the last time I saw you. Sorry for acting like I didn't feel anything when all I wanted was to pull you closer. Sorry for making you question what was real when you never should have had to.
I exhale slowly and lean back, staring at the letter.
For a long moment, all I can hear is the quiet around me.
Then I bend forward again and write one more line.
If you still have any patience left for me, you know where to find me.
Love, Raul
I had to end it with "Love" after watching Carl's whole interaction.
I fold the letter carefully, tucking it into the envelope like it is fragile glass.
My hands are shaking a little. Not much, but enough to notice.
I seal it, write Olivia on the front, and stare at the simple curve of her name.
What now?
The weight in my chest doesn't lift. It just shifts, settled deeper somehow. Like I've finally admitted something to myself that I've been running from for months.
Carl is still humming happily across the room, lost in his own little world. His letter from his girl has turned him into a lovesick fool, and part of me envies that.
At least he got an answer. A yes.
I don't even know what I'm asking for. Just… a chance to try again. To be the man she deserved instead of the one I've been.
I sink back onto my cot, staring at the empty notepad.
The regret isn't gone. But for the first time, it feels like something I can carry.