Ignoring my questions, he holds up the letters. “Did you mean what you said in these?”

Everything. I meant everything. “You’re asking me this now, seven years later?”

He flushes. “I never read them before now.”

“What?” The pain at what he just admitted cuts through me. It’s like I’m reliving his rejection all over again.

“But I kept them. I took them to Afghanistan with me. They were my connection to home, to you. These letters and my tattoo, that’s all I had.”

His admission makes me go all soft and gooey on the inside, but I refuse to melt all over. I will be strong. I won’t let him in.

Then he pulls out another set of letters and holds them up. “I’ve stayed up for the last forty-eight hours writing to you. I haven’t slept. I’ve barely eaten because I had to answer them before I head back to base.”

My knees go weak. Stupid, weak knees. “I don’t want them.”

Seth smiles sadly. “I know you don’t, sweetheart. But I’m going to leave them right here”—he kneels, setting the letters on my doormat—“in case you get bored today.”

Tipping up my chin, I cross my arms over my chest. “I won’t get bored. I have a business to run.”

“Yeah, you do, and you’re a damn good businesswoman.”

“I don’t need you telling me what I already know.” But hearing that felt almost as good as being with you.

He blows out a breath. “I deserve that from you. Anyway, I wanted to let you know that you won’t have to deal with the uncertainty of what I’m doing with the shop, because I’m not going to sell it to you…or anyone else for that matter, but you have to read the letters to find out why.”

“Oh, goody—a mystery.”

He hooks his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans. “Anyway, I’ll leave the letters. What you do with them or with the information you find in them is up to you.”

“So completely nice of you.” I refuse to look at the letters. Or allow myself to even guess what he could have written. I keep my gaze trained on him, making myself hard. Uncaring. A complete stone statue, when inside I’m crumbling to pieces, the fractures he caused so long ago giving in under the weight of the pain I feel right now.

Seth is leaving me. Again. Only this time…I’m not so understanding. I’m not so sympathetic.

“I’m sorry, Rowan.” His voice cracks. “So damn sorry I hurt you.”

I shut the door without answering him.

After thirty minutes, I peer through my blinds to check the driveway. It’s empty. I open the door and snatch the letters before anyone can catch me.

Bumping the door closed with my hip, I tear into the first letter.

Dear Rowan,

I remember the first time we met, in kindergarten. You punched me for not letting you swing first, and I fell in love. I never stopped.

While I was in prison, I felt betrayed by you, by Jase…by everyone. That wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t Jase’s, either. I’d forgotten that. I needed someone else to blame…

Only, I had made the choice to take the fall with him and go to prison. Not you. Not him. Me. And I have to own that.

So this is me, owning my actions, and begging for your forgiveness.

Love,

Seth

P.S. I won’t be able to go to your senior prom because I’ll be in boot camp. Send me a picture of the dress you’re wearing, and remember to punch your date in the nose if he tries to mess with you. I bet you’ll be the sexiest woman there. On second thought, take Piper as your date.

Dear Rowan,

There isn’t anything you need to write for me to forgive you. Just keep writing. It gets lonely in here. Miss your face and your hot body.

Love,

Seth

Dear Rowan,

Happy birthday! I’m very sorry I couldn’t be there to help you blow out the candles, or eat my grandmother’s cake. Maybe you could bring me a piece the next time we have visiting day at Western.

Each day I get to go outside. Some guys stare through the fence, while others play basketball. Me, I write you back first—every time—then work out while giving everyone the evil eye.

I think it’s a good look.

Love,

Seth

Dear Rowan,

I had to rewrite this letter about seven times now. First, be careful. There aren’t many men in this world who will love and cherish you like you deserve. Second, if I’m being that big of a dickhead that you have to break up with me, then do it. It’s not fair, and when I see you having fun with other guys, I’ll most likely get my head on straight faster than you can give a good-night kiss.

Please wait for me, Rowan. But if you can’t, then know that, for me, you’ll always be the most wonderful, most precious gift I was given in this life. My life is complete when you’re in it, which is why it’s so hard to write to you now.

All it does is remind me of what I’m missing, but a real man would write you back. So that’s what I’m going to keep doing.

All my love,

Seth

I’m sobbing freely now, hiccuping so hard that I can barely read the last one.

Dear Rowan,

The papers you saw were dated with a pretty recent date, but it was because a clerical error was made. I opted not to re-up in the Marines awhile back. Before I came home to bury my grandmother. I decided six months ago to make things right with you, but I wanted to do it here, not over long distance.

However, fate had other plans for us and decided to throw us together a lot sooner. I never told you about Hawaii because it was a nonissue for me. I’d already refused. But seeing the way it devastated you, I wish I had talked to you about it. I’m truly sorry for causing you so much pain, Rowan.

Maybe you’ll let me make it up to you, or maybe you won’t. It’s your decision and I won’t push you any further.

There are two things you should know. One, I applied to UNC Charlotte for the fall semester. I’ll be using my GI Bill to pay for it. Two, I would like you to consider staying on at Gardner’s. My dream is to own it with you, which is why I’m majoring in business.

Think about it. Give yourself some time to consider if being with me makes sense. I know it does for me.

You’re my compass and all directions lead me straight to where I’m supposed to be. With you.

Love you forever,

Seth

By the time I’m done, I’m a blubbering mess. I’ve held on to my pride for so long that I don’t know how to let go. But it’s time I let go. Because I can’t lose Seth. He’s my everything.

I grab my coat, keys, and purse, then head to my car. Immediately, I drive like a bat out of hell the short distance to my brother’s house, hoping against hope he’s still there.

The lights are out when I pull in the drive. Parking the car, I unbuckle my seatbelt and shove open the car door, then run to the porch. I beat on the front door, calling Seth’s name, over and over. He doesn’t answer.

Jase yanks open the door. “What the hell is wrong?”

I shove past him, calling out Seth’s name.

“He’s not here.” Jase takes me by my shoulders and looks me in the eyes. “He went back to Jacksonville.”

“Oh, God,” I sob.

“Did he hurt you? Because if he did, I don’t give a damn about prison time, I will cut his ass up and display his head in the front yard,” Jase snarls.

“No.” I shake my head. “No. In fact, he didn’t hurt me at all. He wrote the most beautiful, most romantic letters I’ve ever read.”

“That sounds painful,” Jase says with a grimace. “For him anyway.”

With a half sob and a laugh, I punch him. “I have to go get him.”

“Then go.”

Running back to my car, I slide back inside and throw it in reverse. I back out of the drive. Come hell or high water, I’m getting on that Marine base.

But as I drive past Gardner’s, I see a light on in one of the office windows and Seth’s truck parked out front. I cut off three cars as I cross two lanes of traffic to turn into the parking lot.

“Please don’t let me ruin this with my big mouth,” I mutter as I park the car and run inside. “I love him. God, I love him, and I don’t want to lose him again.”