Page 55 of Now and Then

“It’s not much of anything yet, honestly.”

Hunter gives me the brief rundown on the case—key word being brief. “We know they’re running narcotics, but all roads have been dead ends.”

I heard him say just as much around the guys. “Did something happen after you left last week?”

He shakes his head, defeat pouring from him.

“So why can’t you sleep?”

“Been worried about you.” His gaze meets mine.

“I’m good, Hunt. I promise,” I say. And it’s the truth. “It didn’t happen how I thought it would, but it was time to talk about the miscarriage. It sounds weird, but I actually feel lighter somehow now that they know.”

“That’s great, Sut.” He fidgets with a torn envelope.

I take the pile of cards from his hands and flip through them. A few birthday cards from his grandma. A get-well card from Luke that must be over a decade old. A graduation card from his parents. Halfway through the pile, I recognize a card. I quickly leaf through the rest of the pile. I recognize a lot of these cards.

Because I wrote them.

I pick up one of my cards and read it, then I look at Hunter. “You kept my cards?”

He shrugs his shoulder, goes to his closet, brings back a worn shoe box, and sets it in my lap.

My hands smooth over the top. “What’s this?”

“Open it and find out.”

My heart pounds in my chest as I open the lid. “Hunter, are these . . .”

“Every card you’ve ever given me? Yep.” He smiles. “Dig a little deeper.”

I grab a handful of cards and pull them out of the box.

I burst out laughing when I see what’s at the bottom of the box. “Oh my gosh, is this the letter I sent you?”

“Sure is,” he says. “Pretty sure you were a junior in high school?”

Mortification spreads across me as I read it. “This is . . .”

“Cute.”

“Pathetic,” I correct, and we both laugh.

“If I remember right, junior year was pretty rough?”

“Try sophomore, junior, and senior,” I say, rereading the card and remembering the girl who wrote it. “Between friends and boys and lack of college aspirations and you and Luke being gone I was struggling.” I hold the letter up. “When I wrote this, I was so lost and lonely.”

When I wrote the letter, Mom and I were headed to the pizza parlor near the bowling alley. Turns out, running into your entire friend group who’d gone bowling without you can make even the most seemingly popular girl feel lonely. I wanted nothing more than to talk to Hunter, but he was off at college and harder to get ahold of. I poured everything I was feeling into a letter instead.

“Why would you save this?”

He grins. “Hold it up to the light and look a little closer.”

I have no idea what he’s getting at but do as he says. At first, I don’t see anything. Hunter looks over my shoulder and adjusts the angle. I immediately burst out laughing. “Oh my god.” I laugh even harder until eventually I’m cry-laughing.

With the right lighting, I can perfectly make out words from the impression of a pen. The page is filled with various versions of my signature with Hunter’s last name.

“Now you see why I kept it.” He smiles.