Heartsong (Green Creek 3)

I don’t know you.

But I can’t wait to.

I can’t wait to witness what blooms between the two of you.

Knowing Kelly as I do, it might be hard, at first. But give it time, grant him patience, and you will be justly rewarded beyond anything you could possibly imagine.

I sit here on this sunny day, light streaming in through an open window, imagining what the moment will be like. When he comes to me and tells me he’s met his mate (though I’ll admit to never really finding that word to be entirely adequate). He’ll be nervous about it, I think, and his brow will be furrowed, and he’ll ask questions, so many questions, and will probably be wishing he was anywhere but here, but he’ll be fighting back a smile, and he will look as if he’s burning from the inside out. I know this. I know this.

Cherish each other. Love each other with your whole hearts. Don’t ever lose sight of what’s important. And that, my unknown friend, is easier said than done, and makes me a hypocrite. I can see that now clearer than ever. But if you learn with each other and grow together, then there is nothing that will stop you from becoming the people you’re supposed to be.

I can’t wait to meet you.

But I hope you understand that I’ll be fine with waiting on that meeting for a time. Because when he gives you his heart, it will no longer be mine to hold. And I want to hold on to it for as long as I’m able.

Whoever you are, you are loved.

Never doubt that.

You are loved.

Yours,

Thomas Bennett

“Are you crying?” a weak voice asked.

I looked up at Kelly as I wiped my eyes. He blinked slowly. He was pale, and he coughed wetly, but he was concerned too, and was trying to reach for me.

I stood quickly and went to him. I pushed him gently back down on the bed, ignoring his protestations. He settled back against his pillow, frowning. His nose was running, and he had dark circles under his eyes, but I didn’t know if I’d ever seen someone such as him before in my life. He was like the sun.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. His frown deepened. “I’m not dying, right?”

I laughed, though it sounded broken. “No,” I managed to say as I sat on the edge of the bed. “No, you’re not dying. And you won’t be. Not until we’re very, very old.”

“Oh. That’s good to know.”

“I think so too.”

“What’s that?” He pointed at the letter.

I didn’t hesitate.

I gave it to him.

He sniffled as he took it, pushing himself up so he was propped against his headboard. He looked down at the writing, and his eyes widened. “This is….” He traced a finger over the words like I’d given him a great gift. “Where did you get this?”

“Your mother gave it to me.”

He looked up at me. “And it’s for you?”

I nodded. “For both of us, I think.”

And then he began to read, eyes darting back and forth. A moment later his hands began to shake. He started to cry silently. I put my hand on his knee over the blanket. When he finished the second page, he started again from the beginning.

Eventually he set the pages aside. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, throat working. He said, “I remember that day. When we went to the woods. Just him and me. I don’t…. It wasn’t as profound as he was making it out to be. I was a little jealous that he was spending so much time with Joe, even though Joe needed it after all he’d been through.” He coughed, and I handed him another tissue. He smiled before using it to wipe his nose. He pushed his knee up against my hand. I never thought about moving it. “It was dumb, you know? Being jealous over something like that. But I didn’t know any better. So I made up something about the territory that I told him I’d been thinking about, and he didn’t question it.”

“Just because it wasn’t profound to you doesn’t mean it wasn’t for him,” I said quietly.