Page 110 of Letters From Victor

“Oh, no. You’re making that decision on your own.”

“I’m just not sure I can handle whatever he has to say. An apology, a plea, an explanation—it’ll require a response. And I honestly don’t know what mine will be.”

I turned my attention back to Frankie. He’d lost interest in the picture book in favor of a set of wooden blocks, trying to build a tower on the uneven surface of the quilt. I wanted to join him—to lose myself in something as simple and tactile as stacking blocks. But this letter… I shifted my gaze back to the envelope in my hands, turning it over, looking for answers. It gave me none. I looked helplessly to Edith.

She shrugged, but there was a knowing softness in her eyes. “You don’t have to decide anything right this second. That’s the beauty of your situation, Barbara.” She hardly ever used my full given name. “You can do—or not do—whatever you want. But…”

“But what?”

“You need information to make a decision.” She glanced up at the porch awning and recited, “‘It’s all that’s left unsaid upon which tragedies are built.’”

“That’s oddly poetic for you.”

She chuckled. “I read it somewhere. But it fits.” She nodded to the letter. “See what he has to say. You don’t have to do anything about it, but at least read it. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

She folded her arms and cocked a hip. “Unless you’re scared of what it will make you feel.”

I stared at the envelope, its white surface glaring in the sunlight.

“I’m not scared,” I said, though even I could hear the thinness of my voice.

“Sure you’re not,” Edith jabbed, but not unkindly.

A clatter grabbed my attention. Frankie’s tower of blocks had toppled, and he was busily reconstructing it with the determination only a toddler could muster. I slipped a finger under the envelope’s flap and tore it open, savoring the sound of ripping paper like a match striking, catching, burning.

Sunday, August 26, 1951

11:00 a.m.

Hello, my darling,

I really shouldn’t be writing you, but my heart is so heavy this morning, I just can’t help myself. There are so many things I want to say to you, and this is the only way.

I’d like to report that getting by on my own is a smashing success, but, darling, I’m afraid it isn’t. I’ve never felt so alone, so entirely out of place. I’ve given you a part of me that no one else will ever know. Never have I wanted or needed anyone as I need you. I keep reflecting on all the adventures we’ve had together—all the quiet moments, too—and it seems impossible that it could all be over. I keep hoping something will happen to bring you back to me. I honestly believe we belong together.

I keep wondering what you’re doing at this very moment. I can’t help but remember our Sunday mornings together, and although they may have seemed rather dull at the time, they feel wonderful now. What I wouldn’t give for your homemade pancakes or reading the “funnies” in bed.

Well, at any rate, Frank is out of the picture now, and you’re free. I hope it’s everything youdreamed it would be. Of one thing I am sure, my dearest—I love you sincerely and desperately, now and always. Just the slightest indication that you want me back will bring me running so quickly you won’t know what happened. I belong to you completely, and if you want me, I’ll be here…waiting.

Regardless of what’s happened, I know we still share a love that will not die, and I promise I’ll be here when you find it. You’ve taken a place in my heart no one can fill. Oh, darling, don’t you know how dear you are to me?

These days apart have been a nightmare. As cliché as it sounds, I can neither eat nor sleep for missing you. If all the rest are as bad as these, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself. It breaks my heart to know that you’re alone too. But if that’s what you want, sweetheart, I hope it brings you peace.

In the meantime, please let me hear from you and see you once in a while. I need to know how you’re doing. This is terribly important for us both! I’m sorry I’m so persistent, but you’re still everything to me. If we could have only been a family—night and day—to share everything together… I know it would have worked!

I’m a damn fool for saying it, even more for writing it, but I’ve decided to sell up and start anew. No more funny business. Living an honest life and making a secure home for you and Frankie is all that matters now. If you ever need the evidence, there it is… I know you’d never use it against me, but I want you to know that I’m honest in wanting you!!

I love you, my darling, so much I fear you will never truly know. But I can do no more to prove it to you.

All my love, dearest, always,

—V

PS: I enclosed a letter I received the other day. You might be interested in the offer.

I stared at the letter, Victor’s words blurring into a white-hot smear as I blinked back tears. A breeze stirred, rustling the hem of my dress. I closed my eyes and took a deep, sanctifying breath.

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