Chapter 33
thirty-three
. . .
Witt
Last Letter Glitch
I’d rather know the truth than to be left trying to decode it.
Dad: Mail came.
Dad: Thought you’d want this one.
Dad: Want me to bring it over?
I stand and stare out the window.
The last letter.
Me: No. I need to get out of the office anyway.
Dad: Good. I need help with something.
Me: Be there in twenty-three minutes.
I can see my dad shaking his head. I think it’s funny that he expects perfection from the players he coaches but when I give him a precise answer, he thinks I’m too uptight.
I shove back from my desk, slide my phone into my pocket and tell Dara I’m out for the day.
“Without Maci?”
“Yes.”
“But the last two times…”
I raise my brow. “Dad needs me.” She accepts those three simple words. Maybe because they’re around the same age and maybe sometimes she would like her kids to come help her.
“Maci can put out any fires.”
“She can,” she says with a smile.
My stomach is flipping and flopping. I don’t quite know if I’m excited or scared. It’s been so long. Why now? Is she hurt? Is she getting married? Did she get her dream job and want me to know?
Relief.
Curiosity.
Anxiety.
My brain tries to file each emotion into its own box, but none of them stay there.
When I get to Dad’s, I try to act unconcerned. Why? I don’t know. Dad knows how important these letters have been in my life. Not once has he ever pried.
I wonder if my mom would have.
Would she have sat on my bed and patted the comforter with her gentle hands? Would she have said, “Witt, my perfect baby, are you in love?” Or “Son, I think it’s time we got to know her in real life. Not just through chat rooms and headsets.”
Dad is quiet like me and that alone makes me feel connected.
Maybe I’m not so different than everyone in my family.
I’m different than my siblings. But even Noelle is quiet around people she doesn’t know.
But God forbid, you’re in her circle of trust. She will talk your ear off about things that don’t matter.
About things that do.
And about things you don’t want to talk through.
I park around the side and when I open the door, I hear a saw buzzing.
“Hey,” I say, keeping my tone even. It takes a minute but he finally notices me.
“Hey, you’re late.” He lets out a laugh that he doesn’t mean to.
I nod. Not wanting to seem anxious, I don’t immediately ask for the letter, instead I ask, “What are you making?”
“A trellis for Parker’s wedding.”
“Oh.”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Do you need my help?” I ask, wanting to keep my cover story intact.
“Yeah. Grab that pencil and measure out ten feet on six slabs.”
I do what he says then he uses the circle saw to cut the pieces. Then I help him fit them together so he can add the screws and nails.
“Are you staining it? Parker loves the walnut color.”
Dad takes off his safety glasses. “You keep surprising me. And you know you’ve put me in the middle of drama.”
I point to my chest. “Me?”
“Yes you. Falling in love with Maci. And now G won’t leave me alone about going on a date. He even had Paulina send me a Seniors Dating app.”
I shove my hands into my navy dress pants and grin.
“It’s not that bad, Dad. You can do it. Just go out with someone and get him off your back.” My voice cracks. “We both deserve happiness.”
“Son, I’ve lived the best life. You kids are my world.”
“It must have been hard being a college coach and raising Parker, Noelle and me by yourself.”
He nods. “Hard but not unhappy.”
Then he changes the subject, pulling a letter from his back pocket. “I think you’re here for this.”
He hands it to me, and I think I close my eyes for a split second.
“I figured you would want this one asap.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
His stare lingers before he says, “I need to head to practice.” He pats me on the back.
I start walking away but then I have this overwhelming urge to talk. Just a little.
“I love you.”
I swear his eyes well up with tears. “I know. I’ve always known.” He pulls me into one of his monster hugs that I’ve always shirked away from, and my world finally feels right.
I have Maci.
My family.
My company.
And a letter from Rune.
Somehow, I manage not read it at a stoplight or pull over into a shopping area. I just keep glancing at it in the seat beside me.
Getting from my car to the penthouse is a complete blur. I tuck the letter in my inside jacket pocket in case I run into anyone.
I find myself in my home office at the end of the hall, sitting at my desk.
My fingers run over my name and the address listed.
Then there are two more places it goes before it gets forwarded to my childhood home.
I’m unsure why I didn’t change it to the penthouse.
Maybe because I never wanted it to fall in the wrong hands.
My family and Dara know about the letters, but I’ve always wanted to keep Rune private.
Glitch is written in calligraphy type fancy letters whereas the address is just printed with a blue pen.
I run my finger under the seam and the flap unseals. I pinch the paper inside and pull it out slowly. Am I ready for this?
It’s folded in thirds on ivory textured paper.
She’s always loved stationary. When we were young it was Hello Kitty, then she moved on to paper that had designs, or that had bows.
One year, she used paper that said “From the Game Room of Rune.” The past couple of years she’s moved into elegant, expensive stationary—plain and beautiful with the texture being the point.
I unfold it and take a breath when I see how long it is.
Glitch,
I rewrote this letter more times than I can count because I wasn't sure goodbye was the right word.
Maybe it isn't.
Maybe it's simply... enough. Or until it’s time.
Ten years is a long time to know someone you've never met.
You've celebrated every victory with me, reminded me that failure wasn't permanent, and somehow always knew when I needed someone to tell me to keep going.
You helped me become the woman I wanted to be long before I believed she existed.
I hope I did some of that for you too.
Life has started changing in ways I never expected. Good ways.
And for the first time in a very long time, I think I'm finally ready to stop living inside a headset.
Thank you...
For every message.
Every late-night conversation.
Every terrible joke.
Every reminder that somewhere in the world there was one person who understood me.
You were my safe place.
You’ll always be special to me and I hope you feel the same.
You’re a man that calculates and I believe if our paths were ever meant to cross, they would have by now.
I think it's time we let each other become memories instead of possibilities.
Goodbye, Glitch.
Thank you for carrying pieces of me until I was strong enough to carry them myself.
—Rune
I read it. And re-read it. Maybe four times before I fold it neatly and slip it back into the envelope.
Part of me feels relieved because part of me felt guilty for being happy without her, but maybe she is playing the exact same game—ready for the next level in life.
I’m actually glad she didn’t go into it. Her letter was completely her.
Honest.
I open the luggage case with all her letters and add it to the pile, and I realize it may be time to get rid of them, but I’m not quite ready to let them go.
Slouching into my desk chair, my mind races.
I grab a pen and paper, ready to write her back but a little voice inside my head knows she’s on pins and needles waiting for me to respond.
She was always a little impatient. Rune had to buy the new skin the first day it came out, even knowing the company would discount a bundle in the week after release.
So I open my laptop and pull up our secret, encrypted chat that reroutes the IP address a million times.
Both of us could probably get around it and find out where each other is in the world, but neither of us ever have.
Or maybe she quit gaming and became a beautician.
She always talked about hair styles of the avatars and made hers unique.
I look at the time stamp on the last message. It was one hundred seventy-three days six hours and fourteen minutes ago.
Somewhere between 92 days and one hundred seventy-three I quit thinking about her every day. Because of Maci. But Rune deserves a response. Should I tell her about Maci?
No.
Rune was my world and she deserves to know that in case I didn’t tell her. I’m much better at communicating now. Maybe now I can tell her.
Rune,
It has been one hundred seventy-three days since your last message.
Statistically, I concluded long ago that you weren't coming back.
I was correct.
Today your final letter arrived.
Thank you for sending it.
You once told me closure wasn't something another person gives you. It's something you decide to accept.
I think I finally understand what you meant.
We're old enough now that introducing ourselves by our real names probably wouldn't feel strange anymore.
I've often wondered what yours is. I’m sure it’s beautiful like your soul.
You never asked for mine and I appreciated that.
You let me become whoever I needed to be before I knew who that was.
You carried me through more years than you'll ever realize. I told you enough but sometimes changed the person I was chatting about to an aunt or a cousin when it wasn’t, but you were my outlet and I needed you.
Every success I've had and through every impossible thing I believed I could build.
Somewhere in the foundation is a conversation we had.
Thank you for believing in me before there was much to believe in.
I should also tell you something I never admitted to either of us which probably tells you everything you need to know.
You became part of every version of my future.
I don't know exactly when that happened.
I only know it did.
Maybe that's inevitable after ten years.
I hope life is kind to you.
I hope you laugh often.
I hope someone notices all the extraordinary things about you that most people miss.
Most of all, I hope someone makes you feel as understood as you made me feel.
Goodbye, Rune.
I hope someone looks at you the way I should have if we'd ever met.
—Glitch
I read it.
I stare at the screen and read it again.
Goodbye Rune.
My fingers rest on the keyboard. No matter how much I love Maci, it’s hard to close a huge chapter of my life.
“Didn’t know you were home?”
My reflexes betray me.
The laptop snaps shut before I've consciously decided to move.
“Something top secret?” she asks.
“No.”
“Private?”
“I was saying goodbye.”