AN: Thank you for joining me for this story. I hope you enjoy this next installment. Please let me know what you think.

Chapter 3

August 1983

Elizabeth had been away from Virginia Prep for almost six weeks, and surprisingly enough, she was excited to return. As soon as her aunt pulled away, she left her suitcase on the steps and took off across the wide expanse of lawn, straight to the row of hedges. Peeking her head inside, her smile evaporated when she realized that her beloved violet garden had withered in the late summer heat of August.

She moved down the narrow stone path and went to sit on the bench. She stopped and picked up a rock that was sitting there. A slightly weathered envelope was beneath it. Her name was penned in small block letters. She lifted the flap and pulled the note from it. Elizabeth found herself smiling when she saw who it was from. Even though they had only had a couple of encounters, Elizabeth was looking forward to seeing Henry, but as she read his note, she felt sadness drape over her like a heavy blanket.

Elizabeth,

I tried to tend your garden in your absence, but I'm afraid the heat had its way with the flowers.

I hope that this school year is better for you. Unfortunately, you won't be seeing me around much. This summer I finished paying my debt to the school and am no longer bound to work. I'm still at UVA. I'll try to drop by occasionally and check in. I'll bring you flowers.

Henry

Elizabeth sat for a long time. She felt bereft, which, rationally, she knew was silly. It wasn't like she had a real connection with Henry. She was sad and he had done something nice for her. That was the extent of it. Slipping the note back into the envelope, she rose and walked back to her dorm.

October 1983

It was well after dark, when Elizabeth snuck out of her dorm to sit on the steps. She didn't know what to do. She was putting on a good show-excellent student, active in campus activities, friendly. She'd turned her life around and everyone was happy-everyone but Elizabeth.

Sadness and depression seemed to press in on her, despite all of her efforts to fight it off. She was playing the part, but couldn't escape her feelings, especially in the stillness of the night.

What had started as a plan to sit on the steps, became Elizabeth stepping through the hedge to her spot. She hadn't been to the garden in a while. The area, dimly lit by a street lamp, gave way to a potted mum sitting next to the bench and a note held down by the rock.

Elizabeth pulled her jacket closer around her and sat down, the cold permeating through her sweatpants, sending a shiver up her spine. She ripped open the envelope.

Elizabeth,

I brought you a mum. I thought you might like something cheery for the change in season. My mom used to put mums around our front porch in the fall. A couple weeks ago, it was three years since I lost her. I had a rough few days, but I'm better now. It doesn't look like you've been out here, so I hope that means that school is going well and you're staying busy. I'm sending positive thoughts your way.

Henry

Holding the note to her chest, she smiled through her tears. Did Henry know how often she thought of him? He must think of her sometimes too if he brought her the flower and wrote her a note. Reaching down, Elizabeth brushed her fingers over the burgundy petals and was taken back to her childhood where decorative displays of straw bales and mums adorned their lawn.

At the time, she had thought it was silly, especially when her dad sat in the front yard handing out candy on Halloween. It was embarrassing how her parents would fawn all over the neighborhood children in their superhero, ghost, and witch costumes. Now, she'd give anything to be able to sit with them and listen to their banter about how cute the little boy next door was in his Snoopy costume.

A cold breeze snapped her back to the present. Elizabeth tucked the note in her pocket and hurried back to her dorm. She had a letter to write.

November 1983

Henry stepped off the bus. He hadn't seen or heard from Elizabeth since that day when he showed her the violets. He'd left two notes. He couldn't even be sure that she'd seen them. As he walked to the campus, he couldn't believe he was even doing this. "Why are you so hung up on this girl?" he muttered under his breath.

He stepped through the gate and slipped into the small side garden. When he saw the rock on the bench, he assumed that she hadn't seen his last letter, but as he got closer, he saw that the envelope under the rock was a soft lavender and his heart pounded wildly. Henry picked it up and stared at it in disbelief. His name was written across the front in a perfectly slanted script. He carefully removed the letter and let his eyes fall across the words.

Henry,

It sounds so silly to say, considering we only spoke a couple of times, but I miss you and think about you often. You're the only person I've met since coming here, who really understands me. Everyday, I go through the motions and everyone thinks I'm fine. But I'm not. I pretend to be happy, but inside I feel hollow. I don't know how to make it better. Please tell me that I won't always feel this way.

Elizabeth

P.S. My parents always had mums in our front yard too.

Henry took a stuttered breath, vividly recalling those first months coming back to school, and how hard it was. He tucked the note in his pocket and headed out, stopping to glance up at the girls' dorm before walking through the gate.

A week later, Elizabeth stole away to the garden long after bedtime. It had been an awful day, and she was exhausted, mentally and physically. She'd even skipped studying in favor of going to bed early, but after staring at the ceiling for hours, she could only think of Henry. He would know what to say to make her feel better. She wasn't typically the praying type, but she prayed that there would be a new letter. She desperately needed one.

Stealing into the garden, the tightness in her chest dissipated when she saw a second mum, this one gold, positioned at the opposite end of the bench. Under the rock was his letter. She was overwhelmed with emotion that Henry seemed to know exactly when she needed to hear from him the most. Sitting quickly, she ripped the letter open and held it in the moonlight as she poured over his words.

My dearest Elizabeth,

It pains me to know you're struggling. I remember those days of just trying to make it to the end of the day. By the time I finished my work, my body begged for sleep, but my mind wouldn't let me. The first year is the hardest. I wish I could say something to make it better sooner, but nothing will. I think about you almost constantly, and if I could will your pain away, I would, in a heartbeat. I'll await your next letter.

Henry

Elizabeth stayed outside, in the stillness of the night until she could bear it no more. Returning to her room, she climbed into bed. For the first time since the day in mid March, she fell asleep quickly, clutching Henry's letter to her chest.

And so it continued. In the late night hours, Elizabeth sneaked away from her dorm to her secret garden, rewarded with a letter every few days or so, which she promptly responded to. She kept them all in a small box in her bottom desk drawer, pulling them out each night, reading them to comfort herself.

Their interaction was less as it got colder, and with the holidays, Elizabeth expected that Henry went home for his college break, although he didn't specifically say that. She and Will had spent a week with Joan, but Elizabeth could tell Joan was relieved to be dropping them back off at school. Will immediately contacted a friend whose parents were quick to come and pick him up, leaving Elizabeth alone when the big snowstorm hit. It was worse up north, but the fear of low temperatures and blizzard-like conditions had been serious enough that the administration at Virginia Prep held off the beginning of school for a week, so instead of being surrounded by all of the other kids on January 10, 1984, Elizabeth was alone in Houghton Hall.

Having seen the news, Elizabeth knew that she was going to get snowed in and decided to just stay in bed for the most part. It was warm and she was surrounded by books and microwave meals. She'd make it. Of course, she would probably break down a handful of times, a combination of the quiet and too much time to think, but overall, it was getting better. Christmas was hard, but getting back to school had actually been a good thing.

Elizabeth lay down as the snow started to fall, and with Henry's letters scattered around her, she fell asleep. Her dreams were unremarkable, but there was a constant, scraping noise in the background. Starting to wake, she realized that the noise was coming from outside and she pulled the pillow over her head to drown it out.

"Better," she mumbled under her breath. She lay there for a few minutes until it dawned on her that the scraping was probably someone shoveling the snow. Tossing the pillow to the side, she rolled out of bed and looked out her window. There was a path from the street, up the drive, right up to her dorm. Her brows furrowed. Why would anyone do that? No one even knew she was on campus. Catching a glimpse of the bundled figure, Elizabeth tore away from the window and ran down the stairs and out the front door.

"Henry!" she called out, and the man, who was about 20 paces away, turned around and made his way back to her.

Unwrapping his scarf, he wore a wide smile. "So you are here. I thought maybe you would be." Glancing down, he saw her shuffling her feet, standing in the snow in her socks. "You need to get inside. You're going to freeze!" He moved to hold the door, so she could step inside. Following her in, they stared at each other for a moment, and then a fit of giggles erupted from them both.

"How are you?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Doing okay, I guess. Some days are better than others."

"Where's your brother? Surely he can take your mind off things."

"Will and I have a-" she paused for a long moment. "It's complicated. He's in DC I think." Henry raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask and Elizabeth didn't volunteer. It was impossible to explain a situation that even she didn't really understand.

They stood in the entryway of the building, the silence was becoming awkward. Henry gave her a sly smile. "When was the last time you played in the snow?"

Elizabeth laughed, caught off guard by the question. "Years ago. I was probably 10."

"How about we build a snowman? It snowed six inches overnight. This is the most snow we've had so far this year. Let's take advantage of it." Henry's smile was wide and inviting and she found herself giving in to his joy.

"Okay. Give me a minute to change. I'll be right back down." She disappeared up the stairs and changed into two pairs of sweatpants, two pairs of wool socks, her boots and a sweater. She zipped her parka over it and slipped on her mittens. Lumbering down the stairs, with her scarf in hand, she found that Henry had rewrapped his scarf around his face and neck. She quickly did the same and allowed him to take her mittened hand and he dragged her out the door.

Elizabeth couldn't remember the last time she had so much fun. They built a rather sad looking snowman, threw snowballs at each other and played tag. She laughed and for the first time in such a long time, it was genuine.

Henry caught Elizabeth by the waist and they dropped to the ground making side by side snow angels. She rolled to her side and watched him. "I'm starting to get cold. Want some hot chocolate?"

She struggled to get to her feet and then helped Henry to his. She led him into the building and up the steps to her room. Stripping their outerwear off, they hung soaked coats and gloves up and set snow boots on towels to contain the mess.

Elizabeth fixed styrofoam cups of hot chocolate and they sat quietly, drinking and thinking. "Henry?" His name was phrased more as a question than precursor to a statement. When he looked at her, his breath was taken away. She sat with her legs criss-crossed, balanced on her desk chair. Her hair was messy from her stocking cap and her cheeks rosy from cold.

Elizabeth had eyes the color of the clearest pool of water he could imagine and he was drowning in them. A feeling of deep love and longing swept over him and he desperately wanted to kiss her, touch her, and more. He tried to blink those thoughts away, a grimace covering his face when they wouldn't leave. "Henry, what's wrong?" she asked.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Elizabeth was entirely too young for him to even be thinking about such things, plus she was vulnerable and wasn't ready for that. She trusted him. He couldn't take advantage of the situation. "Oh, Elizabeth," he sighed.

He moved closer and knelt on the floor in front of where she sat. "I think it's time I go. For good." He saw the bewilderment cloud her expression, and he struggled, knowing he didn't have the words to make her understand. "You are strong and brave and no matter what comes your way, you will figure out a way to overcome it. You don't need me."

"But I do. You know. You understand. I don't have to pretend with you. Please don't go." She twisted her hands in her lap, letting her feet fall to the floor.

"As hard as it is, you need to keep living. Your parents didn't want you to die too. So, do it for them, even when it's hard. You'll always have them in your heart." Henry stood and Elizabeth joined him.

"Please stay," she whispered, grabbing hold of his hand.

"If I stay, it wouldn't be good for either of us." He pulled his hand away. "I have to go now." He walked out the door and moved to step into his boots. Elizabeth stood in the doorway and tried to make sense of what was happening.

"Did I do something to make you mad? I'm sorry. I swear. Just tell me and I won't do it again." Elizabeth's voice cracked and Henry closed his eyes as he shrugged into his heavy coat. "Please?" she begged. "I'll do anything." He couldn't make eye contact because he knew she was crying and he was the reason. Why had he been so dumb? It was selfish of him to fall for this girl when she was so trusting, so willing to please.

"It's nothing you did. I promise. I just can't be who you need me to be." He stepped close and pressed his lips to her forehead, committing her smell and the warmth of her skin to memory. "I'm sorry Elizabeth." Then he turned and hurried down the stairs.

Elizabeth couldn't figure out what just happened. Henry was the hope she clung to. He was the only one who could make it better. How could he leave her? She was rooted to the spot in her doorway, lost in her thoughts. Suddenly, she was snapped out of it by the slam of the heavy oak door. She raced down behind him and flung the door open. "You son of a bitch. I hate you!" she screamed, as he made his way down the driveway and turned the corner to walk down the road.