I’d been wrong to come in here. Because I know that whatever I’m holding in my hands is so very intimate. It’s personal and private. And it’s not my business. But also, he’s even more of an enigma now than he was before. I don’t have any answers… I just have even more questions.

With a sigh, I stare at the stack of cards and letters wrapped with the rubber band. They’re all opened. I can see the frayed tops of them, sliced through with an opener. Surely it won’t matter if I just take a peek. Right?

I slip the rubber band off, and it’s old enough that the rubber is tacky and has lost some of its elasticity. I can tell that Dom hasn’t looked at these letters in quite a while, maybe even since he first opened them. But yet, just as the other letter, he can’t throw them away. I look at the top card. There’s a cross with sunshine pouring onto it.

With Sympathy for Your Loss.

I open it, skimming past the canned Hallmark words, skipping to the handwritten note at the bottom.

Dominic, I’m so sorry for your loss. The world has lost a light in Emma. I know this is unbearable for you now, but I’ll be praying a prayer of peace for you. I know that even without her, you’ll be able to go on and do great things. With love and deepest condolences, Jada Milnay

My breath freezes in my throat, and a brick seems to settle on my chest as I stare at the words. A realization dawns on me, cold and heavy.

Emma died.

I have to assume that she was Dominic’s girlfriend… and she died.

My fingers fly as I shuffle the rest of the cards and skim through them.

My condolences.

Heaven has gotten another angel.

My prayers are with you.

She’s in a better place.

Trite words, although what can people really say? There are no words when something tragic like that strikes.

I can hardly breathe as I get to the last card, as I stare at what lies beneath the cards, hidden at the bottom of the stack. Letters.

From Emma.

Girlish, curly handwriting fills notebook papers, with flowers and hearts doodled in the margins. My fingers shake as I read the first one.

Dom,

Thank you so much for taking me to the beach yesterday. It was the perfect day! You laughed at me so much for trying to find the perfect shells, so I enclosed a few for you. I want you to remember the day just like I remember it being: perfect.

-Em

This letter makes sense, because beneath the stack of envelopes, a smattering of tiny shells line the bottom of the box. They’re clearly old, clearly fragile, and now they make perfect sense. They were a memento of a perfect day.

My breath comes quickly as I read the next one.

I feel like I’m looking in on the lives of two lovers.

Because I am.

Dom,

Last night was amazing. I woke up this morning and you were the first thing I thought of… and you were the last thing I thought of last night before I went to sleep. I always knew you would be my first—and it was amazing. I’m so glad that we shared that together, that we can say that we were each other’s first.

I love you,

Em

My heart hurts. He took her virginity and she died.

I fly through the rest of the letters… but nothing in them gives me any clue as to what happened to her. Just random notes about high school, their mutual friends, their dates, and how much she loves Dominic. There are at least twenty of them, and they seem to span most of high school.

I know what she looked like now. Because in the last one, her senior picture is enclosed. She’s slender and blond, with shining, friendly blue eyes that smile at the camera. She was a gorgeous girl, and it’s clear that she loved life. I can see it in her eyes.

Knowing that she’s dead now makes me feel like I’m surrounded by a ghost. It gives me chills, and I quickly gather all of the letters back together, looping them with the cards within the aged rubber band. There’s only one letter left… the letter that Dominic hasn’t even opened.

As I stare at it, I notice something. The handwriting on the envelope is the same.

Emma had written the unopened letter… the one simply addressed to Dom.

And Dominic can’t bring himself to read it.

For some reason, because I’m sentimental, because I’m soft hearted, or maybe just because I’m human, that sends a railroad spike through my heart, and the pain that I sometimes see in his eyes makes sense.

Of course it crushed him. Obviously he and Emma had been together for several years. They lost their virginity together. They loved each other. And then she died.

I’m pretty sure that a piece of Dominic died with her.

I’m sorry, he’d told me. But I’m fucked up.

Of course he is. At least that part makes sense now. The why of it, anyway. The how is still a mystery, but I’m not sure that it matters. Emma is dead and there’s no bringing her back. But some other things are still unanswered… like why Dominic blames Cris.

I hear a noise downstairs, a noise like a door closing, and I leap to my feet, making sure that I put everything back exactly as I found it before I rush out the door, closing it quietly behind me. I rush downstairs toward the veranda.

After dying to know more about Dominic, I’m completely conflicted now and I regret snooping through his things. Something about that black velvet box made me intensely sad and melancholy.

Emma died.

She was a huge part of his life and she died. And not only that, but he refuses to talk about her or anything remotely concerning her. I know in my heart that whatever is wrong with Dominic, whatever is broken inside of him, is because of Emma.

But as sure as I know that, I know that the secrets I found today will have to stay hidden until Dominic is ready to talk about them. If that day ever comes.

With each day that passes, I grow more and more afraid that it never will.

Dominic

I find Jacey exactly where I figured she’d be. Soaking in the sun by the pool.

I stand in the doorway, watching her for a minute before I go out and wake her up. She’s got a magnificent body, stretched out like a cat, basking in the warmth. I have to smile about that, and as I do, she opens her eyes and looks at me.

“Hey,” she greets me sleepily. “How was your day? I didn’t figure you’d be home until late.”

I shrug. It fucking sucked. Amy Ashby was being her normal bitchy, entitled self, and I’d counted the minutes until the day was over. I went so far as to call Tally on the way home and tear him a new ass, telling him that I’d never work with Amy again. And he’d calmly reminded me that the public loves seeing us together… that it makes me money.

And it does, so I shut up and finished driving home in silence. But I did have a revelation.

As I crested the hill to my drive I realized that I’d been looking forward to seeing Jacey. That the anticipation of seeing her was the reason that my day dragged by so slowly.

It was a startling thought, but now that I’m here, staring down at her, it doesn’t seem so startling. Being with her feels right.

And that’s a startling thought.

“It was just a day,” I tell her. “How was yours?”

“Oh, it was good. I snooped through all your stuff and swam all day. So it was just a day, too.” She stares at me and there is something in her eyes, something I can’t name, but then it’s gone and she grins.

I shake my head.

“I don’t have much for you to snoop through,” I tell her, rolling my eyes. “I hate knickknack shit.”

“You’ve got that right,” she tells me with a yawn, sitting up to stretch. “This house seems almost like a hotel. There’s nothing interesting here, except for the art on the walls. But thank you for having lunch sent over to me.”