A bit cheesy? Yeah, but hang in there with me… :) I debated writing the whole letter from Will, but also didn't want to re-explain everything that we knew that Sonny didn't…
Sonny turned on his phone for the first time in two weeks. He knew others would cringe at the idea of being disconnected from the world, but it had been just what he needed.
He hadn't known where he was going when he had headed out of Salem. He hadn't planned ahead enough to go far, but he knew he needed time away. His mind was not completely on driving as he headed up I-57. He didn't know when he would know where he was going, but he figured he would know when he got there. He had no concept of time. It was one of those drives, like when you get in the car to drive home, arrive at home, and don't really remember how you got there. He just kept driving.
He had spent two weeks up at Starved Rock, just a few hours from Salem. It was like returning to his former life. He camped out under the stars, and spent his days hiking and contemplating life. Yes, he had taken this trip…run away really…in order to get away from all of the drama of Salem. But also, to figure out what he was going to do about all of the drama once he got back in Salem. He could never have figured it out there, most likely running into Will on a daily basis. He could not take that. Not only that he was so mad—disappointed really—with Will, but also that he knew that seeing Will would wear him down. This was no time for instant forgiveness. Will had hurt him, and he wasn't sure he could forgive him. He had trusted Will, and that trust had been broken. The question was, was it broken beyond repair?
Ping. Ping. Ping. Aha, in came the texts—first from Chad, asking how long Sonny would be gone. He had texted Chad before he left, letting him know he was leaving town for a while, and that taking care of the coffee house was the least Chad could do, after the mayhem he had let loose. That was the last text he had sent before he turned off his phone. It had been excruciating, not talking to Will every day, but that was one thing he needed to find out—could he live without Will in his life?
The answer had come to him this morning. As he prepared to leave his campsite for a hike, he noticed the edge of the envelope, now peeking out from his bag. It was a sign. It was time.
After hiking through the woods, searching for the perfect spot, he ascended a tall rock, and looked out at the seemingly endless sky. He again took a deep breath, looked for a smooth spot, and sat down. He held the envelope in his hands for a few minutes, looking at Will's handwriting. This was it. It was time to know.
He carefully opened the envelope, hands trembling. He tried to convince himself it was due to the brisk morning air, but he knew better. He pulled out the paper, and began to read:
Dear Sonny,
I know that nothing I can say right now will change things between us…
As he finished the letter, Sonny still could not say he completely understood why Will did what he did, but he did know that Will's childhood had clouded his decisions. While he had never been a believer of "blame everything you do wrong on your childhood," he did see where Will was coming from, wanting stability where his childhood had been lacking.
He had found some peace in reading the letter, and the anger seemed to have died down to a slow dull burn. He wasn't sure what the future held, but he knew he needed to see Will. Their relationship was worth at least a face-to-face talk, and Sonny was ready for just that.
Ping. Ping. Ping. More texts. Sonny's parents were worried about him, but had stopped by the coffee house, and heard word from Chad that he had taken off. They understood he needed time, and that he needed that time somewhere other than Salem. He sent them a quick text, letting them know he would be back by the end of the day, and then headed back to take down his tent. He was heading home.
