“What?” I turn it over and realize that he’s right. “It was in my mailbox, though. How is that possible? Maybe because there’s no return address?”
He shakes his head. “It would have been held at the post office, and you’d be notified that you need to pay the postage in order to receive it. Someone else must have put that in your box.”
I stare at the envelope for a moment. I’m aware of the mail carrier watching me for a few seconds before he turns around and heads out of the building. I can only think of one explanation for this: Luca has been in my building. Or maybe he had someone else drop it off. Either way, he has to be in Miami.
“Something wrong, Naomi?”
I look up at Joel, remembering that I’m not alone. Then I have an idea. “You’re here pretty much all day, right?”
“Pretty much.”
“Have you seen anyone who doesn’t live here come into the building? Maybe someone hanging around the mailboxes?”
“Can’t think of anyone out of the ordinary,” he says. His gaze shoots down to the stack of mail in my hands. “Can you describe what they might have looked like?”
I shake my head. “No idea.” I realize how ridiculous I must sound. “Could you keep an eye out for anyone who doesn’t live here and might be putting things in the mailboxes? I don’t want to get them in trouble. I just want to know who it is.”
He smiles. “That’s my job.”
“Right. Thank you.”
I head upstairs, and when I get inside, I set the flowers on my kitchen table and rip open the envelope.
Dear Naomi,
Did I mention that I’m sorry that I didn’t write to you for two years? Because I am. By the time I found the last letter you sent, you had already moved and all the letters I sent got kicked back to me. I guess maybe the same thing happened when you wrote to me. That’s just an assumption on my part. Maybe you didn’t try to write to me again. I hope you did.
I still have the last letter you sent. My ex had intercepted it and hid it from me for seven months. I guess she didn’t like that you told me not to marry her, and that I could come hide away with you. I wish I had received that letter a lot sooner. I wouldn’t have stayed with her for so long, and I would have taken you up on your offer.
Speaking of that offer, is it still valid? Because I’d like to come hide away with you if you’ll have me. Just say the word and I’m yours.
Love,
Luca
I don’t know why my knees feel so weak. I don’t understand why after all these years his words are making me feel this way. I remember that last letter I sent him two years ago. I had prepared myself for what I would say when he inevitably made fun of me for inviting him to come hide away with me. At the time that I wrote it, I had meant it. Maybe I hadn’t expected him to take me up on my offer, but I was feeling lonely, and maybe a little adventurous when I wrote it.
I had wanted a change of scenery, so I started looking for a job in other cities. My boyfriend at the time didn’t want to uproot his life to move with me, so we made the mutual decision to break up. It made sense. We hadn’t been dating long. I received the letter about Luca’s engagement a few days later. Breakup season was in the air, and it didn’t sound like he wanted to get married. Maybe a selfish part of me was afraid he would stop writing to me once he settled down. That fear seemed to have been confirmed when I didn’t hear from him for the next two years.
For a while, I wondered if he would show up at my doorstep after I sent him that last letter. But then I moved to Miami, and I knew that wouldn’t happen unless he had my new address. But the next letter I sent was kicked back, and so was the next one. It took longer than I care to admit to accept that Luca had gotten married and wasn’t interested in writing to me anymore.
I wish that I could write back to him now. I wish that I didn’t have to use my weather reports as a ridiculous way to send messages to him. I look at the torn, unstamped envelope, and an idea comes to me.
I’ve been overthinking it.
I find a notebook and a pen in my bedroom, then return to the kitchen table and start writing.
Dear Luca,
How long have you been in Miami? I know that you were in my building. I’m not sure if I should be creeped out or just happy that I can finally write back to you. Maybe you wanted me to figure that out so I wouldn’t go back to Georgia and bug your old friends. Is that why you didn’t bother to put a stamp on the envelope?
I did try to send you my new address when I first moved here, but you must have already moved because the letter was sent back to me. I kind of hoped that you would show up at my door one day. In fact, I still hope you will.
Love,
Naomi
I fold the letter and stick it in an envelope. My hands are shaking by the time it’s sealed. I stare at it for a moment, trying to decide if I really want him to read this. I’m scared that he might actually show up. I don’t know why that scares me. What’s the worst that will happen? He’s had my address for years and he never showed up to murder me. But that’s not what I’m afraid of. I don’t really know what I’m afraid of.
