November 9(86)

I’m sliding into the seat next to her.

“Sorry I’m late, babe,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.

She stiffens beneath my arm, but I keep going. I press my lips to the side of her head, unintentionally taking in the floral scent of her shampoo. “Damn L.A, traffic,” I mutter.

I reach for her father’s hand and before I say my name, I wonder if he’ll recognize it somehow, having known my mother. She changed back to her maiden name a few years after my father’s death, so he may have no idea who I am. I hope. “I’m Ben. Benton James Kessler. Your daughter’s boyfriend.”

Not a single flash of recognition registers in his expression. He has no idea who I am.

Her father’s hand falls into mine and I want to yank him across the table and punch his teeth in. I probably would if I didn’t feel her grow even more tense beside me. I lean back and pull her against me, whispering in her ear. “Just go with it.”

It’s as if a lightbulb goes off in her head at this very second, because the confusion on her face turns into delight. She smiles affectionately at me, leaning into me, and she says, “I didn’t think you’d make it.”

Yeah, I want to say. I didn’t think I’d be sitting here, either. But since I can’t possibly make your life worse on this date, the least I can do is try to make it a little bit better.

Fallon

I make a new pile with the pages I’ve already read. I stare down at the manuscript in disbelief. I know I should be angry that he’s lied to me for so long, but being in his head is somehow justifying his behavior to me. And not only that, but it’s also justifying my father’s behavior.

Ben is right. Now that I look back on that day, I can see that my father wasn’t entirely to blame. He was expressing his opinion over my career, which every parent has the right to do. And even though I disagreed with him and the way he delivered it, he never was the best at communication. Besides, I obviously had it out for him as soon as he sat down at the booth. He went into defense mode, I was in attack mode, and things just went south from there.

I need to remember that there’s more than one way people show love. And even though his way and my way are completely opposite, it’s still love.

I go to flip to the next chapter, but a few pieces of notebook paper fall out of the section between chapters five and six. I set the pages of the manuscript down and pick up the letter. It’s another note written by Ben.

Fallon,

You know everything that happens after this point in the manuscript. It’s all here. Every day we spent together and even a few days we didn’t. Every thought I’ve ever had in your presence . . . or close to it.

As you can tell from the chapter you just finished, I wasn’t in a good place when we met. The two years of my life since the fire had been hell, and I was doing everything I could to drown out the guilt I felt. But that first day I spent with you was the first day in a very long time that I felt happy. And I could tell that I made you happy, and that’s something I never thought possible. And even though you were moving away, I knew that if there was a way we could each start looking forward to November 9th, it could make a huge difference in both of our lives. So I swore to myself that on the days I spent with you, I would allow myself to enjoy it. I wouldn’t think about the fire—I wouldn’t think about what I did to you. For one day each year, I wanted to be this guy who was falling for this girl, because everything about you captivated me. And I knew if I allowed my past to eat me up in your presence, that I would somehow slip. That you would find out what I’d done to you. I knew that if you ever found out the truth, there was no way you could forgive me for all I had taken.

Even though I should probably feel a world of guilt, I don’t regret a single minute I spent with you. Of course I wish I had handled things differently. Maybe if I had walked up to you and your father that day and explained the truth, I would have saved you a lot of heartache. But I can’t dwell on all the things I should have done differently, when to me this was our fate. We were drawn to each other. We made each other happy. And I know without a doubt there were several times during the past few years that we were madly in love with each other at the same time. Not everyone experiences that Fallon, and I’d be lying if I said I regretted it.

And that’s one of my biggest fears—that you’ve spent the past year assuming I’ve told you more than one lie, but I haven’t. The only lie I’ve ever told you is the one I omitted—the part where I was responsible for the fire. Every word that came out of my mouth in your presence beyond that was the absolute truth. When I said you were beautiful, I meant it.

If you take one thing from this manuscript, let it be this one simple paragraph. Absorb these words. I want them to stain your soul, because these words are the most important. I’m terrified that my lies have resulted in a loss of the confidence you gained during the times we were together. Because while I did withhold a huge truth from you, the one thing I couldn’t have been more honest about was your beauty. And yes, you have scars. But anyone who sees your scars before they see you doesn’t deserve you. I hope you remember that and believe that. A body is simply a package for the true gifts inside. And you are full of gifts. Selflessness, kindness, compassion. All the things that matter.

Youth and beauty fade. Human decency doesn’t.

I know I said in my previous letter that I didn’t write this for your forgiveness. While that’s the truth, I’m not going to pretend that I’m not praying on my knees for your forgiveness, hoping for a miracle. I’m not going to act like I won’t be sitting at the restaurant for hours upon end, hoping you walk through those doors. Because that’s exactly where I’ll be. And if you don’t show up today, I’ll be there next year. And the next. Every November 9th I’ll wait for you, hoping one day you’ll be able to find enough forgiveness to love me again. But if that doesn’t happen and you never show, I’ll still be grateful to you until the day that I die.