Chapter 17 – The Letter in the Dark
The night before, Adrian had almost given in.
The pill bottle lay open on his desk, a scatter of white tablets against the wood. He hadn't taken them, hadn't thrown them away either. He just sat staring at them for hours, the monster circling tighter inside his skull.
There is no letter. There will never be one. She saw you for what you are. That silence is the truth.
By morning, his body felt carved out, his chest heavy with exhaustion and shame. He hadn't eaten in two days. He hadn't slept in longer. Every sound in his apartment felt too loud, too sharp. He told himself he wouldn't check the mailbox again — couldn't stand the hollow disappointment one more time.
But habit won.
Dragging himself down the stairs, head bowed, Adrian unlocked the box with hands that shook. And froze.
There it was.
An envelope, cream-colored, edges a little bent, his name written in hurried, slanted handwriting he recognized instantly. Her handwriting.
For a long time he didn't breathe. He just stared at it, afraid that if he blinked, it would vanish like a cruel trick. Then, with trembling hands, he pulled it free.
The paper felt warm, alive.
Back in his apartment, he unfolded the letter slowly, carefully, as though the words might shatter if he rushed them. His vision blurred as her voice filled the room in loops of ink.
Selene's Letter
(handwriting uneven, words pressing heavy on the page — every sentence carrying the weight of her silence)
Adrian,
I should have written sooner. I thought that silence would protect me, protect both of us. But the truth is it only made me think of you more. I read your last letter again and again. And I kept hearing your voice between the lines, and it wouldn't let me rest.
I was afraid of your pain. Afraid I wasn't strong enough to meet it. Afraid that if I failed you, I'd be another ghost in your life. That fear kept me silent. But silence is its own kind of cruelty. And I don't want to be cruel to you.
So here is the truth: I can't take away what happened. I can't heal the wound you carry. But I will listen. I will be here. You are not too much for me. Not anymore.
— Selene
Adrian's hands shook so violently he almost dropped the page. Tears blurred the ink, smudging the words as he clutched the paper to his chest.
The monster inside snarled — She'll leave again. This is pity. She doesn't mean it. — but its voice faltered, as though even it knew these words were different.
You are not too much.
He whispered it aloud, once, twice, again and again, until the words carved their way inside, burning against the poison of his thoughts.
The pills still sat on the desk. But for the first time in days, they weren't the only choice. There was also this letter. There was her voice.
And for tonight, that was enough to keep him here.