The ring is for the girl you were.
The letters are for the questions we never answered.
The house is whatever you decide it should become.
But none of those things are what I meant when I told Bennett to make sure you received exactly what you deserved.
I swallowed.
Then I read the answer.
What you deserve is the truth.
All of it.
Even when it hurts.
Especially when it heals.
And, because Thomas could never end anything without one last joke:
You once accused me of breaking my promise about the diamond ring. Technically, I bought it. So I maintain that I fulfilled the promise.
“Thomas,” I said to the empty room.
I can hear you arguing.
I laughed through my tears.
Then came his final words.
Fine. I was fifty-two years late.
But you always were impatient.
Do not spend whatever time you have left waiting for me.
