At first, I wondered if I’d forgotten it. Then I noticed the envelope had already been opened—and carefully sealed again.
There was only one explanation.
Tatum.
I don’t know when she found it or why she hid it. Maybe she thought she was protecting our marriage. It doesn’t matter now.
I read.
Daphne wrote that she had only just found my final letter. Her parents had hidden it among old papers. They told her I’d called and said to let her go—that I didn’t want her anymore.Gift baskets
They were pushing her toward Thomas, a family friend—stable, dependable, everything they wanted.
She didn’t say whether she loved him. Only that she was tired, hurt, and believed I had chosen a life without her.
Then came the line that stopped my breath:
“If you don’t answer this, I’ll assume you chose the life you wanted—and I’ll stop waiting.”
Her return address sat at the bottom.
I went downstairs, sat on the bed, opened my laptop, and typed her name.
I didn’t expect much. After decades, people disappear. Names change. But there she was—a private Facebook profile under a different last name.
Her profile photo froze me.Letter writing kit
Daphne on a mountain trail, hair streaked with silver, smiling the same gentle smile. A man stood beside her, but nothing about them suggested romance.
I stared for a long moment, then clicked Add Friend.
Five minutes later—accepted.
A message appeared:
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