Page 76 of The Weight of Her Silence
Chapter 45
The Letter She Left Behind
Two months after the funeral. That’s how long it had been since the world stopped turning. Since the scent of lilies filled the house for all the wrong reasons. Since Ava stopped humming in the kitchen, and Caleb barely looked anyone in the eye. Since Lila’s name became something people said carefully, as if saying it too loudly might break something.
Two months, and Nate still reached for her side of the bed at night.
He still made too much coffee in the mornings.
He still waited—without realizing—for her footsteps down the hall.
But that day, while clearing out the last box from her nightstand, he found it.
Tucked beneath a worn copy of her favorite book.
A cream-colored envelope. No name on the front, just a single word written in Lila’s handwriting.
You.
His hands trembled.
He sat on the edge of their bed, the silence stretching heavy and reverent around him. For a long time, he couldn’t bring himself to open it. The weight of it felt unbearable—like her voice had waited until now to haunt him. Or maybe to save him.
When he finally unfolded the paper, it shook in his hands.
And then, her words.
If you’re reading this, I’m already gone.
I didn’t want to leave things the way they were between us, Nate. I couldn’t.
So I wrote this, not to blame you. I think you’ve carried enough guilt for both of us. I wrote it because part of me still loves you. The part that remembers who we were before it all cracked. And I need you to remember, too.
Do you remember the night we moved into this house? You kissed me in every room. You said we’d fill it with love, with noise and kids and forever. And for a while, we did.
You were my best friend. My home.
Nate lowered the letter, pressing his fist to his mouth, breath ragged. His shoulders curled inward like he was trying to hold himself together.
But then things changed. I changed. You did, too. And I know I didn’t say it—I didn’t ask for what I needed. I kept quiet because I thought loving you meant shrinking myself. And maybe you thought staying silent meant things were still okay.
I saw the signs before I knew the truth. The late nights. The distance. Camille. I felt it like a phantom limb—your love disappearing. But I never said it. I wanted to believe you’d come back.
And when I found out… I didn’t scream. I didn’t throw things. I just broke quietly. Because I was already half-gone.
Nate folded forward, the letter trembling in his lap as a sob finally ripped through his chest. Guilt slammed into him like a wave—how blind he’d been. How cowardly.
But here’s what I need you to know, Nate.
Even after everything, I never stopped hoping you’d come back to me. Not as my husband—but as the man I believed you were. The father I wanted for our children. The one who made pancakes on Sundays and danced with me in the kitchen when no one was watching.
I need you to be that man for Ava and Caleb now.
They still need you. You have time with them. Time to choose differently. Please don’t waste it.
And if, someday, you find someone else… don’t love her the way you loved me—quietly, with parts of yourself walled off. Love her openly. Messily. Completely.
Because life is so short, Nate.
