PART 21

That summer, while looking through a box of Thomas’s belongings, I found an envelope addressed in his familiar handwriting: “For Margaret, whenever you need a reminder.” I had seen the envelope before but never opened it.

I don’t know why.

Perhaps grief had made every last message feel too precious to use.

Inside was a short letter he had written after one of his hospital stays, years before his death.

He thanked me for the life we had built.