Hey, Mister Marshall (St. Mary's Rebels 4)

Yeah, there was this one time when Wyn — all calm and quiet — got so angry at Conrad, her now boyfriend, for denying his feelings for her that she snuck out of St. Mary’s and went all the way to his house in Bardstown only to draw graffiti on his truck. It was such a gutsy move. It was a Poe move and I loved that for her.

Soon after that, Conrad came around, so a total win-win situation.

Then Callie turns to Salem, who’s also laughing. “And don’t forget how Arrow carries around your letters.”

The smile that covers Salem’s face is one that can light up any room. “I know. Like random letters. I’ll find one in his pocket while doing laundry and it makes me so happy. And then some nights he wakes me up to ask me about them. Like, what was he doing when I wrote that letter; what year was it. It’s so sweet.”

Before Salem and Arrow got together, Salem had been in love with him for eight long years. And during those eight years, she wrote him a letter almost every day. She never sent them, of course; Arrow was dating her older sister at the time. She put them in orange envelopes and kept them tucked away in a shoebox.

But when they got together, Salem confessed about the letters. And from the looks of it, Arrow has been completely fascinated by them.

I’m so happy for her.

I’m so happy for all my friends actually.

They’d all loved and pined for their guys for years before fate brought them together. And if they felt anything like what I’ve been feeling for the one week ever since I realized that I loved him, I can’t even imagine how they all managed to survive.

But I have to say, as painful as every breath is right now, I’d still take it.

I’d still take every painful breath and every stinging tear in the world to realize sooner.

To realize way before I did that I loved him.

I’d take years of pining and longing and crying in my pillow at night to realize that he was my soulmate. That he’s as unloved as me, so I could fill his life with all the love. So I could tell him every single day that he is loved. That he beats in my heart and flows in my veins. That he’s the flutter in my belly and the shiver on my spine.

Yeah, I would have.

And maybe in all of this, that’s my biggest regret.

Not realizing sooner.

Not having enough time to fill his life with all my love.

“Okay, all done,” I say to Salem, smiling.

“Have you been listening to what we’re saying?” she asks, looking at me in the mirror.

I put everything aside as I say, “Yes. But your situation is different.”

“How?” Wyn asks.

“Um, because all your guys loved you. They cared about you.”

“Yes, but we didn’t know that,” Wyn reminds me.

“In fact, I thought my guy broke my heart on purpose,” Callie goes. “Well, he did do it on purpose. But not for the purpose that I was thinking.”

“Exactly,” Salem adds. “And my guy was engaged to my sister.”

“And my guy,” Wyn chimes in, “never wanted to do anything with me. I was his little sister’s best friend, remember?”

I look at all three of them and their eager and kind faces. “You guys are amazing and I love you. And I’m so happy for you that your love stories worked out, but no. He is,” I swallow, wiping my hands down the skirt of my own dress, “different. He is hard. And impenetrable. He has walls around him and they are there for his own protection, I know that. But I also know that I can’t climb them. I can’t poke holes in them. I can’t take them apart. Not unless he allows it. Not unless he’s willing to let me in. And he’s not. I’ve tried. So all I can do is let him go.”

I want that for him.

I want that for him so badly.

I want him to just let someone in. I want him to not be so closed off, so lonely, so aloof.

I want him to be happy.

To build a life in the present and not live in the past.

And yes, if I’m being completely honest and selfish, then I want him to build a life with me. I want him to let me in. I want him to let me make him happy.

But it’s not in my control, is it?

And I’m not going to beg.

He wouldn’t want me to and I wouldn’t want to make his life even more difficult.

So I’ll keep my promise and my distance.

And mail out the thing I made for him, the tweed jacket, from New York. Or maybe simply leave it with Mo to give to him once I leave.