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I release all the air in my lungs and then retrieve it just as fast. I step into her bedroom again, looking around, trying to find clues as to where she might be. Her dresser’s the same, though it’s not as if I counted all the stuff that was there before. She has these mini-Polaroid photos wedged between the mirror and the wood behind it. They’re of her and her friends, Sammy and Jeannie, and some of her and Jonah at work. There used to be ones of me too. Of us together. They’re not there anymore.
I look around some more, and I notice that the sneakers she usually wears are gone. So is her school bag. Her desk is clear of the laptop that’s usually there, but there’s a sheet of paper in its place—what looks to be a handwritten note folded in thirds.
If this is a letter to her dad, letting him know where she is, I should read it, right? So I can pass on the message? So he doesn’t have to worry?
I realize I’m making excuses for my actions, but I…
I care about the girl.
Still.
And I’m allowed to be worried about her.
I pick up the note, unfold it carefully, and immediately choke on a gasp when I don’t recognize the handwriting. The letter isn’t writtenbyHarlow.
It’sforHarlow.
Harlow,
Since you have me blocked in every possible way I could reach you, writing you this letter was my only option.
I hope it gets to you because what I have to tell you is important, even if you don’t think so yourself. Before I go on, I just need you to know that I care about you, and I hope you understand that I’m not telling you this to hurt you.
It is not now, nor has it ever been, my intention to cause you pain.
Your mom got in contact with me a few weeks after you left and told me where you’d moved to, and where, when, and how to find you. She also told me that you missed me. That you had spent all summer crying over me, wishing to be with me.
That’s why I drove to see you that day, but you wouldn’t speak to me, and then those guys came out with the baseball bat, and well… the rest doesn’t matter, I guess.
I was heartbroken, and I got halfway home and called her to tell her what happened. She begged me to go back and try again. And I could tell that something was off. So, I pushed, and I finally got the truth out of her…
She said we were the same—she and I. That we were both stuck in loveless marriages and wanted more. Deserved more. That’s why we stepped out to be with other people.
She lied about how you felt, but she was sure you would’ve left with me if I’d given you the chance. Turns out,shewas the one who wanted me to find you. She wanted you to run away with me so she could leave your dad sooner, and there’d be nothing left to tie them together.
She used you. And me. All for her own personal agenda.
I’m so sorry, Harlow.
I’m sorry for the way I treated you that day. I went there excited, thinking I was getting you back, only for the absolute opposite to happen, but that wasn’t your fault.
I’m sorry for the way things ended between us.
I’m sorry for the trouble it has caused you since.
But I can’t lie and tell you I’m sorry it ever happened. When I told you I loved you, I meant it.
I still think about you every day.
I still love you every day.
My door is always open for you, and so is my heart.
- Christian.
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