TWO WEEKS LATER

"You can't be serious," Trini looks at me, eyes wide. "You're moving?"

"I gave my notice at work," I shrug.

"But to Reefside?" Her nose scrunches like she just smelled something bad. "Please tell me this is a joke."

"It's not," I tell her gently.

I've been putting this off since the day that I got back to Angel Grove. Handing in my notice at work was easy, telling Trini that I decided to move to the town over, is not. It's like I was breaking up with her or something.

After I landed in Angel Grove from Greece, I arrived with renewed determination. I tried to call Cole to try and mend the tear in our friendship, but he wanted nothing to do with me. He wouldn't even look in my direction. And I didn't really blame him. I just wanted to explain myself face to face, but really what good would that do? It would have been for me; Now that I think about it, it's selfish. So I gave my two weeks, and here we are, two weeks later, and free to find another job.

"You can't do this to me. I'll die in Angel Grove without you."

I roll my eyes at her dramatics. "You have a hunky fiancé that will keep you company."

She shakes her head and then lowers her voice. "But he leaves the toilet seat up and then leaves his beard hair in the sink," she whines and I laugh, "and he doesn't know that I know this, but he uses my deodorant when he runs out of his. It's disgusting!"

I laugh again, "You've been living with him for six years, Trini. You've known this about him. This is nothing new."

"But it'll be, like, official. I can tell him to quit it, but if he doesn't, what do I do? I'm still married to the guy."

I smile, "And none of that will matter just like how it doesn't really matter right now."

"I guess… hey!" Her brows furrow, "You changed the subject!"

I giggle in response, "Come on. Reefside is not that far away… it's like three hours—or two if you drive with Zack."

She shakes her head, "But you're not down the street and what am I going to do without our Monday morning coffee dates? I need you."

Her arms come around my neck and I sigh. I need her too. The day after she had gotten back from Greece had been a Monday, and I spent our entire coffee date telling her my ugly truth. Everything that happened and everything that I was thinking, and just like I knew she wouldn't, she didn't judge me. She held me while I cried over my latte and she cried over hers.

Just for a moment, I begin to reconsider, but then I realize why I'm doing this. I'm doing this for me. So that I can have a fresh start.

"I have to do this, Trini."

She nods against me and I know that she knows that too. She would never try to convince me otherwise.

"And when will you do this?"

"In the next couple of weeks," I tell her, "My stuff is all packed up. I just need to find a job and a new place."

"You're really doing this, huh?"

I nod. "Yes."

She takes her arms off of me and gives my hand a tight squeeze with hers. We hear faint rumbling in the distance and I know that there's a storm coming. I heard it on the radio on my way over here this morning.

"I should get going," I tell her, "The rain is going to catch me and you know my car."

"Right." Her eyes widen like she remembered something. "Wait, don't leave yet."

I watch her disappear into her spare bedroom and I can hear her rummage through something from my spot in the living room. The spare bedroom is the room where I sometimes crash in when I am too tired to make the drive back to my place. Next, that room will be the room that I sleep in when I visit from Reefside. Eventually, it will become her nursery once she and Jason decide on having those gorgeous babies of theirs.

Time seems to pass at a speed of its own, with no regard for others.

"Just a minute," Trini calls back from the room.

What is she doing in there?

"There's something for you," Trini says, walking towards me with a shoe box.

My curious eyes find hers. "What is it?"

"Letters," She holds one up, "From Tommy."

Heat claws up my back, and in an instant, I forget how to breathe. I glare at Trini, my eyes wide and horrified. Like she had just walked in wielding a knife.

I look down at the box full of unopened envelopes addressed to my childhood home. The return address reads South Carolina. Were these the letters he was talking about? The ones he said he wrote while he was in bootcamp.

"Tommy brought a box of his things the other day," She says, softly. "We're storing some stuff for him in the spare bedroom for when he moves back here. He's leaving tomorrow."

Tomorrow? So soon. He never did reach out to me, but I know it's for the best.

My head drops, "Right. Well, why are you showing me? Did Tommy tell you to give them to me?"

"No," her eyes hold mine and I feel like she knows something I don't, "but they were meant for you."

I shake my head, "But he never sent them…"

Trini's lips press together. "I think you should have them."

"I don't want them," I take a step back, trying to create distance between myself and the little box of horrors.

"Don't you want to know what they say?"

"No," I answer immediately. "There's nothing left to say."

She grows quiet for a moment as her gaze falls into the box of letters in her hands. Her eyes are sad and tired and I'm sure she's over being put in the middle of my life with Tommy.

"Here," she says, holding the box out to me. "You may not read them, but they're yours."

I look at the box too and then shake my head, "He didn't want me to have them."

"If he didn't want you to have them then maybe he shouldn't have packed them."

"I don't think he planned on you going through his things."

"It's me…" she gives me a small smile. "He knows. And I think he knows that I would give them to you."


My car sputters to a halt in my parking spot, the rain pelting heavily with each drop on my windshield as my wipers lose their war with the clouds. I just sat there, unable to move and barely able to breathe as I looked at the letters piled in my passenger seat. I watched them, almost afraid that they would morph into a snake if I blinked too long. Those stacks of papers held the words that I wanted to hear ten years ago, but now that I have them within reach, mine to hold and read, I'm not sure if I want to.

Will reading it do anything? Truly. Will it? What does knowing how he felt about me then have to do with me now? It won't make me feel better, if anything, it'll make me feel worse.

It'll poke at the wound and give him a free license to drive that knife into my heart all over again.

I can't. I shouldn't.

My fingers gripped around the steering wheel as I dropped my head. With the storm growing stronger, I let myself cry. The tears flowed out of me like the rain from the clouds. It was ugly and loud and everything that I'd been bottling up inside spilling over and making a mess. Loving him has been cold and gray and empty.

I want to move on… I've been trying unsuccessfully for ten years, and each day that I don't have my closure the harder it becomes.

My cheeks burn as I angrily wipe the tears off of them with the scratchy side of my sweater. I reach over and grab a letter from the pile and rip it open.

My trembling fingers make it hard to slip the sheet from the envelope, a part of me anxious to get this moment over with and a part of me hoping that the letters disappear altogether.

And as my eyes scan the small sheet of paper that's in my hands… I see nothing. No pencil or pen marks, no ghosts of words that have been erased, no sign that anything had ever been written. It's blank.

My brows come together and I flip the page over towards its back. Nothing.

No. I shake my head as I flip the piece of paper over and over again as if it would magically reveal words. The paper slices my finger as I reach for another letter and tear it open. Blank.

My lower lip trembles as I bring the stack of letters to my lap and open them one by one and find every single letter addressed to me blank.

Is this his idea of a sick joke? Because it's not funny at all. He wouldn't do this to me. He might have hurt me but he's not this cruel. Please don't be this cruel.

But as I opened letter after letter, I began to lose the little hope that I still had.

And although I thought I had no tears left to cry, I did. I wept. Stupidly and embarrassingly as the shame within me rose. I'm ashamed that I care that they were blank. I'm ashamed that he wasn't the man that I thought he was. And as the thunder outside screamed, inside the car I did too.

I'm crying tears of old, tears that have been long overdue. Tears of grief as I bury the image of Tommy that I once had.

And I continued to sit there, the storm raging on my window as I mourned. With this, I can move on, right? I can see that I had always been wrong about him.

I take one of the envelopes that had a blank page inside and I look at the writing on the front. My childhood home address had been written in black ink and my fingers hovered over each letter, feeling the bumps and ridges under my fingertips.

Kimberly Ann Hart

1420 Pillar Point Street

Angel Grove, California 90193

The tears in my eyes blur the words on the paper in my hands. I remember his handwriting, I remember how he would write my name and stealthily pass me a note while we were in the middle of class. How excited I would get when I would see my name written by his hand.

"Why couldn't you be who I thought you were?" I whisper.

I'm not sure how much longer I stayed sitting there, the air inside my car growing more humid, but I know it was a long time. The sun had long disappeared and I passed the hours by staring out my windshield and watching people run into the safety of their homes to avoid being soaked by the rain.

Once I had finally gathered some strength, I grabbed the box of letters and walked toward my building. I could see my exhale in the air, forming little clouds as I fought the shiver. I didn't bother to grab an umbrella, I didn't care that my clothes were freezing to my skin, I didn't care about anything.

So I walked, my feet feeling like lead as I took each step. I think I'll sleep. I think I'll wake up tomorrow and plan that future out of Angel Grove.

When I finally made it up the steps and my door came into view, I froze.. because I had a visitor.

He was bundled up under a thick jacket and beanie and his nose was bright red. I blinked a few times, wondering if I was imagining things or if Tommy Oliver really was standing at my front door.

He swayed in place in an attempt to keep warm and it was then that I wondered how long he had been waiting for me. When our dark eyes meet, my heart sputtered like my car had done earlier. His gaze falls down to the box in my hands and then back to me.

With his hands buried in his pockets, he takes a step, "I see you finally got my letters."

His voice swirls inside me and I get an unimaginable urge to heave. I look back to the steps behind me and I wonder if I'd survive a leap from this high up because all I want to do is run and hide. But there's nowhere for me to go. This is my home, he's invaded my territory.

Without a word, I open my front door and step inside, not even bothering to close the door behind me. I know he'd follow me in even without being invited. I walk towards the kitchen, flip a light on, and throw the letters on the counter. I need a fucking drink. Here I am slowly becoming an alcoholic because of him. I grab a glass and pour whatever it was that I found in the refrigerator.

My apartment is in boxes. I had packed everything up to make my move into Cole's condo, but then with everything that happened in Greece, I decided to keep my things in boxes in order to make my move to Reefside easier.

My heart is beating fast and slow at the same time and I begin to fear that it'll stop.

"What are you doing here?" I say as I take a sip. With courage in my glass, now I'm curious. I face him, my brows raised in question. Is he coming here to gloat? Coming here to tell me that he never wanted me?

His eyes take a quick look around my apartment before they fall on me.

"Are you moving?" He motions to the boxes.

He doesn't deserve an answer but I decide to give him one anyway. "Yes, to Reefside."

"Why?"

Because of you! Because I can't stand the thought of living in the same city as you and not be with you.

"Time for a change," I answer and his face falls. I look away to ignore it, "So now that I've answered your question, you answer mine. What are you doing here?"

He buries his hands in his pockets and I feel like there's so much that he wants to say.

"What I should have done ten years ago," he swallows, "Come back for you."

I fight off a sarcastic smile. He can't be serious.

"What?"

He thinks he can just walk in here and say what he thinks I want to hear and make everything better? No. He's wrong. I am no one's consolation prize.

"Get out." I stare at him, tears threatening to form again. "Get out."

His head drops momentarily but then he straightens up, his gaze as determined as mine. "No. You had a lot to say to me and I didn't get the chance to say what was on my mind."

I shake my head at the absurdity. He had his chance. He had his moment. That moment is long gone.

"You're two weeks too late. What you had to say no longer matters." My heart trembles. "Get. Out."

"Of course it matters," his eyes narrow, "You matter, we matter, the bullshit week that we went through fucking matters. And you're going to listen to what I have to say because this might be the last time I'll ever get this opportunity again."

A fire lights inside of me.

"You already told me all there was to say," I throw the letters on the floor, tears freely spilling over. The letters are scattered at his feet, all of them half-opened. "There's nothing. Fucking nothing in your ninety letters. Ninety pages of nothing. Ninety pages of silence from you added to the ten years after that."

I shake my head and cover my mouth with my hands, tears spilling over my fingers.

"I hate that you have this power over me," I tell him, "I hate that it's you that can hurt me the most."

His nostrils flare as he stares at me.

"You couldn't think of one thing to say? Not one little word that your brain could come up with?"

When he didn't respond, I continued, "You lied to me. You told me that you wrote me every single day… and I believed you. God, I know this isn't The Notebook, we're not Allie and Noah, but could you have at least lied better?"

"I didn't lie," He says after a moment, "I did write you. I wrote you every single day that I was there, but the words were never right and I ripped them up. I couldn't tell you then because I didn't have the words, but all of that has changed now." He takes me in his arms and I don't have the energy to fight him off. "Everything that I've wanted to tell you is in here." He takes my hand and places it over his heart and I find it hammering hard against his chest. "I don't need a piece of paper and ink to tell you how I feel or felt back then."

I glare at him, "You don't feel a thing."

"That's what you think? That I don't give a damn? If that were the case I would have left five hours ago instead of waiting out in the fucking cold."

I say nothing. Is that true? He's been waiting for me to come back home?

"But what can you say?" I ask him. "What can you say that will make a difference? Why should it matter now?"

He's quiet as I continue to stare at him. Please, answer me.

"I can't answer that for you, Kim. All I know is that I can tell you the truth, from my side, and you can decide for yourself if this is something worth saving."

My eyes close and I wish I could disappear, like I could just magically open up my eyes and be transported halfway across the globe.

I want to say no and have him leave forever, but I can't. I can't live wondering what if. I don't want to wake up ten years from now, married to someone else, kids running around, and think back about Tommy. I don't want regrets. I want peace.

My answer to him is a simple nod.

He lets out a slow and deep breath and it's then that I know I'm in for a ride.

"Kim, you have no idea how hard it was for me to let you walk away. It was probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I didn't want you to go, but I knew that if we were going to make this work between us, I couldn't ask you to stay while there were so many things left to take care of. Just like you asked, I had to make things right."

He's just diving right in, isn't he?

"I suppose the only way to start this is by saying how sorry I am for what happened between us. I'm sorry that I promised you a future and that I couldn't follow through with it, I'm sorry that I never told you about my intentions of joining the military, but most of all, I'm sorry that it's me that you fell in love with because the way that I have treated you is the farthest definition of the word love. But sorry just doesn't seem like enough. I feel like there's a word yet to be invented for me to express how deep my regret runs," He pauses as if gathering his thoughts. "Maybe I took your love for granted, maybe I got too comfortable, or maybe I was blinded by my love for my country that I didn't think about your feelings when I wrote my name on the dotted line and signed the next four years of my life away. But I was a kid then."

He was a baby. Just fresh out of high school, powers gone, and the person that he had learned to become had been ripped from him and he was forced to face life and walk into the unknown. While I didn't agree with his decision, I get it now. I understand why he did what he did.

"And now… I don't have an excuse. I fucked things up really bad," he sighs. "And I didn't want what was so special between us to be tainted by what I did and didn't do. I sat on that cliff for hours, hearing your words play in my ear. How you so selflessly said you would walk away in order for me to have happiness with someone else."

My eyes well with tears and he brushes them away with the back of his finger. I remember that moment like it just happened moments ago. How much my body ached as the words I said betrayed what I felt in my heart. But as much as I hated those words, I meant them. I meant them with every molecule of my being, with every hope, wish, and silent prayer that I have ever made. If the happiness that he sought wasn't with me, I hope it was with her. Because love isn't about loving someone the hardest, it's about loving someone with nothing in return— no expectations, no strings, nothing besides their happiness as an invisible reward.

"But how could I?" He whispers, his fingers brushing back a piece of my hair, "When I've only ever loved you."

His words wash through me, bringing with it a wave of confusion that was beginning to drown me, spilling me into the tattered remains of my broken heart.

"But you have Giselle and—"

"I'm sorry, Kim. Do you remember that first night when I told you that I wouldn't regret this—you, that the only regret I had was not coming after you… All of that is still true," He takes my hand in his, our fingers intertwining. "Giselle is great and she's going to make someone very happy, but she's not you. God, she's not you," He smiles at me. "And it's always been you."

"I promised myself ten years ago that if I had another chance with you, I wouldn't mess it up again… but I guess I can't seem to keep good on my promises. I'm sorry you've ever shed a tear for me. You don't deserve the pain I've caused you over the years, and you're right. I've also thought long and hard about how easy it would have been for us to not have met." He cups my cheek and then rubs my lower lip with his thumb.

Something inside of me flutters at his touch, something new and born and soft. One of the things that I've missed about Tommy all these years is the gentleness of his touch. I've seen him do ruthless things with his hands, things that I dare not even think or speak about when we were at war, but when they connect with my skin… it's like a tenderness that's been reserved for me. A secret that only we share and it's beautiful.

"I think back to seeing you in the parking lot for the first time before my tournament with Jason and being too distracted to win the competition. I think about being so excited to see you in the halls on my first day of Angel Grove High that I followed you out of homeroom like a lovesick puppy," he whispers and my chest tightens, "And I think about how maybe I shouldn't have asked Skull about the cute girl dressed in pink that made him run up to you to claim his territory."

…what?

"I couldn't count on fate to bring us together, Kimberly," He gives me a boyish smile, soft and shy, "I had to take it into my own hands."

I swallow, his silhouette blurring as tears sting my eyes. It had been him the whole time? He's never told me this before.

"I was content on taking the secret of how we really met to my grave," he whispers.

My head drops and he tilts my chin up with the tips of his fingers.

"And you may hate me for the decisions I made in Greece, to be honest, I'm questioning them myself, but I had to. Letting you walk away was the only option in order to make things right," He lets out a deep breath. "I needed to end things with Giselle the right way, but you have no idea how much I struggled to come to that decision. I owed it to my friend and I owed it to her to be an adult about this. I'm sorry I gave you the impression that I was choosing her. I just didn't know what to say. Everything was coming at me so fast. I knew that I had to sit Giselle down and tell her the hard truth before we could be together…she deserved to hear that from me. And I had to find Cole and apologize to him myself."

"What?" I pull back slightly.

My heart hammers against my chest as the image of Tommy and Cole meeting comes forward. Cole, thin and tall with a shag of blond hair, and Tommy, impeccably toned and muscular with a fade of dark hair. The opposites in many ways but important in periods of my life.

"It took some convincing to have him agree to meet me and some begging for him to not tell you about it… but I had to do it, no matter how painful it was."

Knowing Cole, I can't imagine the conversation going well. Tommy was right about Cole when we were in the hot tub. Cole was fiercely loyal and patient, understanding when he needed to be, but cross him and he was vicious— you were the enemy, unwelcome in his territory. He was a businessman at the end of the day.

"And then I had to talk to Jason and finally hear some much needed advice because as you've maybe come to realize, I have no idea what I'm doing."

I smile at that, a crack in my heavy armor. I get a vision of Jason and how absolutely terrifying he can be.

"He told me some things that I didn't like hearing and I stood there like a boot getting chewed out by my superiors, taking every scream in my ear, and every hard shove of his finger into my chest as he counted off all the ways that I've wronged you," His eyes flick to my lips so briefly that I question if I imagined it or not, "But I'll take it. I'll take his every lecture because clearly he's done everything right and I can't seem to do anything but get it wrong."

It's like someone has taken my heart by the apex and is violently rattling it against my ribcage.

"I love you," He presses his forehead to mine. "Anything other than you has been a poor substitute."

I hear the three words play in my ear over and over again. Those three words can both be meaningful and meaningless depending on whose lips they flow out of.

"And as much as you got right about us, there was one thing you got wrong."

I looked at him. I had no idea what it was that he was talking about. I said a lot and many of the things I said I don't even remember.

He frames my face with his hands, "Our love has always been effortless. We've just been swimming against the current the entire time. We're determined to drown if it means admitting that one of us is wrong. We'll die out of stubbornness, Kim. You and me both. But why fight it? Why not use that drive within us to bring us together, instead of keep us apart?"

I smile once again, hearing his interpretation of my words.

"I asked you after our night together to give me a chance to be the man that I couldn't be. I know I haven't done anything to show you otherwise but… let me prove it to you."

I remember that moment all too well. How easily I believed him. But loving is believing…

Love is a strange and silly thing. You're trusting another with your lifeline— your heart, and hoping that they understand the significance of its fragility and do nothing to harm it. There's a reason why it's so heavily guarded behind a cage of bones and buried under bundles of tissue. If the heart is a muscle, love is an exercise, and the more I open myself up to it, the stronger my heart becomes.

But there's just one problem.

"I'm scared," I whisper my truth to him.

He presses his forehead against mine and nods. "I am too, but I'm more scared of losing you, of not having you in my life, and of not giving us a chance."

I drop my head. The ball is in my court, it's here for me to take and make that free throw. The heart can be broken but it can also heal, all while continuing to beat but feeling like you're dead. It's magnificent and terrifying and it should most definitely come with a user manual.

"I'm yours," he says lifting my chin to meet his eyes, "I've only ever been yours. I love you."

His words fill me like a glass of euphoria. With my heart hammering against my chest, I feel his love flow through my veins. I love him. Every time I try to hate him, my love for him comes back with a vengeance.

Tears fall to my cheeks and I nod. "I love you too."

Tommy lets out a chuckle that's mixed with a sigh and I feel it all the way to my toes. His arms wrap around my waist as he pulls me towards him. It's then that I felt that first piece of my broken heart begin to mend, fitting perfectly back like a scattered puzzle. It'll take time to get put back together, but I know it will.

In the next moment, his lips are on mine and I'm reminded of how soul-healing a kiss from him is. His lips are soft against mine and I know that these are mine to kiss from now on. I'd love to say there was magic in the air, and it very well felt like it, but this is real life. Fate isn't pulling us together. It has to be us.

His kiss was like a tattoo, branding me to the bone. He'd marked me and now I can never take it off. With his arms around me so tight, I felt his truth, I believed his words, and I know that I'll never doubt them again.

I pulled back, not ready for the night to be over and I lead him into my bedroom and back into my heart.


Some hours later we're lying in bed, our skin glued together by a thin film of sweat, too exhausted to be awake, but no one daring to sleep. Light is flickering through my curtains and I know it's morning time. Tommy leaves today for another nine months, and I know we should get up, but neither of us wants to move. We want those extra five minutes before we have to say our goodbye.

There are still many things to talk about, but we don't have the time. We spent all night worshiping each other's bodies, slow and fast, familiar and new, in every possible way until we erased everyone that had come in between. My head rests on his chest as my arm wrapped around his toned abdomen and I hold onto him a little tighter, knowing that tonight, I'll sleep alone.

"So about your engagement…" I say and he groans.

"Don't remind me," he says, stroking the skin on my back with his thumb.

I laugh. "What was all of that about? I heard the story, but where was the proposal?"

He shakes his head, "It was the worst. When I got that flat tire, I knew it was the universe stopping me from making the biggest mistake of my life. I should have canceled right then and there but I was too stubborn to listen to what was clearly a sign to stop. Then everything else went to shit. I didn't propose to Giselle because as I was driving back to the park, I made the decision to not do it. My only fuck up was blurting out that I had tossed the ring and what I had intended to do. Giselle filled in the blanks and took care of the rest."

"Trini said that you were surprised to see Giselle and her wearing her engagement ring."

"I was," he nods. "After you went to your room, I went back to mine to call her but I saw her bags in there. I ran to the lobby and she was sitting there with everyone at our table. I think I blacked out when I saw her wearing her grandmother's ring."

My head dips, recalling the painful memory, "Then I saw you with her…"

"And then we went back to your room and you surprised me by everything that you said. I planned on taking her back to my room and telling her everything but I was so hurt… I'm sorry," He holds me tighter to his chest. "I should have done it anyway."

"I'm sorry too," I whisper, "I shouldn't have said those things."

"I never proposed to her, Kim," he sighs. "I planned on it and yes, I did ask her family for permission, but I just couldn't go through with it. Somehow there was a misunderstanding between us and I felt guilty about it. I was thinking at dinner about how I wound up there and what I did to make her believe that we were engaged. And what you saw was just my shitty way of handling the situation."

There were a mix of emotions as I absorbed everything that he was telling me. There was relief for myself, as selfish and awful as that makes me, and a sudden wave of sadness for Giselle, who really did nothing but love Tommy.

"Did she ever talk about it while you were deployed?"

"We didn't get the opportunity to talk much while I was gone… and when I did get the chance, I didn't call," He grows quiet for a moment and it's then that I remember him telling me how difficult it would have been for us.

"I'm going to ask you something that I was too scared to ask of you ten years ago," He lets out a shaky breath. "Wait for me."

I look up at him, my heart racing at finally hearing the words I've wanted for so long.

"Wait for me to come back to you like I should have the first time."

And just like that, the anger, the pain, the sadness— all fading like autumn leaves in winter.

My arms wrap around his neck and I bring him down to me, my lips answering him. It was like all at once I was waking up from the longest nightmare of my life.

"Yes," I murmured against him, his lips curling into a smile against mine.

I'll wait for you. I'll wait as long as I have to.

This was the moment I thought would never come. The moment where we let ourselves fight for what we want, instead of what we don't. Because love is a risk, it's an adventure, and there's no guarantee that one of us won't be hurt, but right now, at this moment, I don't care. I'll jump without a parachute. I'll walk over burning coal. I'll sing at the top of my lungs that I love this man.

And love is love.


Author note: Hey guys! I have been holding onto this chapter for a hot minute. I've been wanting to post this for days, but it just wasn't perfect yet. But after giving my eyes some rest and away from the screen, I'm at a place where I am super happy with it. Please let me know what you guys think in a review or PM. Thank you all for your reviews and sweet messages. Thank you for taking your time and reading even a word. We're done!