Chapter 94 L

Chapter 94 L
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO — THE LETTER

Caleb shows up at my apartment holding a folded piece of paper, nervous in a way I've never once seen from him.

He holds it out before I've even opened the door all the way. "I wrote you something. Couldn't figure out how to say this out loud without it coming out wrong."

I unfold it slowly. His handwriting is cramped, uneven, crossed-out lines visible beneath the final version like he rewrote it a dozen times.

I love you. I should have said it in the truck. I'm saying it now instead, on paper, because paper doesn't require me to watch your face while I say it.

Tears blur the rest before I finish reading.

"Nobody's ever written me anything like this."

"Good cry or bad cry?" He watches me carefully.

"Good cry, Caleb. Very good cry."

He folds me into a hug right there on the front steps, tight, like he's been holding this in for days.

Steady this time. No paper required. "I love you, Mia. Out loud. No excuses left."

I kiss him before he can say anything else. First time either of us has started something without a camera or a script telling us to.

When we pull back, he's smiling in a way I've never seen from him before, unguarded completely.

"Been rewriting that letter for three days. Kept crossing out lines that sounded too much like something Derek would put in a press release."

"I could tell. Like four different versions crossed out under the final one."

"Yeah, well. Turns out it's hard to be honest when you've spent your whole life being coached on what to say instead."

I fold the letter carefully, creasing it along his original folds. "You did fine. Better than fine. Keeping this forever, by the way."

He watches me tuck it into my jacket like something fragile. "Good. It's yours. Meant every word. Not just the big one. All of it."

"I know. I love you too. In case three days of silence made you doubt that."

"A little," he admits, laughing softly. "Glad to hear it out loud, though."

Danny knocks on my door later, curious as ever.

"Mom said rich boy wrote you a letter. True?"

"True."

"Can I see it?"

"Absolutely not. Private, Danny."

"Fine. Is it good? Like actually good, or just rich-boy good?"

I hold the folded paper against my chest. "Actually good. Better than good. He wrote something real, Danny. Not for cameras. Not for anyone but me."

He considers this. "Huh. Guess he's not so bad after all."

"Guess not."

"Still keeping the hockey stick on standby, though."

I toss my pillow at him, same as always, and he ducks out laughing.

My mom knocks softly a while later. "You're glowing. What happened?"

"Caleb wrote me a letter."

"Can I see it?"

I hand it over, watching her read carefully, her expression softening more with every line.

"This is beautiful, Mia. He really means this."

"I know."

Something wistful crosses her face, replaced by warmth. "I haven't seen anyone write anything like this since your father used to write me letters. Before everything went wrong between us. Hold onto it. Hold onto him too, if he keeps proving himself the way tonight suggests."

"I think he does."

I read the letter once more before bed, memorizing the shape of his handwriting, the words pressed harder in some places like he'd meant them more. I fall asleep with it folded safely on my nightstand, ready to be read again first thing in the morning.

I do read it again the next morning, before I've even properly woken up, the words just as powerful the second time through as the first. I love you. I should have said it in the truck. Simple words, landing heavier every time I revisit them.

Chloe texts as I'm getting ready for school.

How are you feeling this morning? Still glowing?

Still glowing.

Good. Full report at lunch. Every detail this time. No holding back.

You'll get it. Promise.

I tuck the letter carefully into my backpack instead of my jacket today, wanting it close but safe, and head out the door with a lightness in my step the weather alone can't explain.

Caleb's waiting by my locker when I arrive, hands in his pockets, looking almost shy.

"Did it survive the night?"

"Slept right next to my bed. Read it twice already this morning."

"Good. I meant to ask, did Danny try to steal it?"

"He tried. I held firm."

He almost smiles. "Appreciate the security detail. I meant every word, by the way. In case morning-you needs to hear it again."

"Morning-me appreciates the reminder."

He walks me partway to class, neither of us in any hurry to separate.

Chloe corners me before first period, phone still absent, a habit apparently sticking from yesterday.

"You look like you're floating."

"I feel like I'm floating."

"Tell me everything. Actual everything, not the summary you gave me last night."

I tell her about the letter, the crossed-out lines, the way he'd looked more nervous handing it over than he ever looks on the ice.

"Mia. That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard, and I read actual romance novels for fun."

"It really was perfect."

She squeezes my arm. "I'm so happy for you. Genuinely. You waited through the silence and it turned into this. That's not nothing."

"It really isn't."

The bell rings before either of us can say anything else, and we walk to class side by side, the letter safe in my backpack, the whole day ahead carrying a warmth that isn't about anything except six honest words written in cramped, careful handwriting.

At lunch, Caleb sits with me and Chloe instead of his usual table, which earns a few curious looks from his teammates but doesn't seem to bother him at all.

"Getting comfortable over here?" Chloe raises an eyebrow.

"Figured I'd earned a seat, given last night."

Chloe tells the table, unable to help herself. "He wrote her a letter. An actual letter. With crossed-out lines."

"Chloe."

She grins at Caleb. "What? It's romantic. People should know. You've officially redeemed yourself for three years of manager girl comments, by the way. Slowly but surely."

"I'll take the win. Slowly but surely works for me."

Lunch passes easy after that, Chloe recounting the whole story to anyone who'll listen, Caleb taking the teasing in stride, and me sitting there quietly grateful that whatever this has become, it's finally something we don't have to hide or manage or perform for anyone watching.

After school, Caleb walks me to my car, quieter than usual.

He leans against my door. "Today was good. I want more days like today. Where none of it feels complicated."

"Me too."

"We'll figure out how to keep having them. Even with my father and the contract and everything else still hanging over us."

"I believe you."

He kisses my forehead before stepping away so I can pull out, and I drive home with the letter still tucked safely in my backpack, today already one I know I'll hold onto for a long time.