You guys are literally the best. I don't think anyone on this site as readers as amazing as mine! This chapter... is something. Yes, I cried. Mostly when I wrote the letter, and I imagined how unbelievably emotional it would be to get a letter from your dead husband.

This chapter also got away from me. None of that ending stuff was supposed to be there. NONE. It just happened. My inner characters had a lot to say. AH! Okay, so yeah, next chapter is about half done. So I'll post it eventually!

Review pleeeease! My last paper is due tomorrow, then I have two more tests and then GRADUATION ON SATURDAY! WOOO! I am 100% POSITIVE I will update before saturday, but you can consider all your pre-Saturday reviews as graduation presents! It's only nice :)

LOVE YOU!

Chapter 4

Writing was such a mindless task. From the moment you finally learned to discern the incomprehensible squiggles into words and phrases penmanship simply became second nature. But now the process was weighing heavy on her mind, because this was either a cruel joke or it was a gift, the likes of which she hadn't expected.

It was hard to get ten years into a relationship without memorizing your significant other's handwriting. Every curve, every irregularity, every slant of Toby's script was forever seared on her broken heart. "Emily..." she breathed softly. "Em, where'd you get this?"

"In your mailbox?" Her innocent tone immediately struck Emily off of her suspect list.

But someone had to have done this. This couldn't be from Toby, could it?

"Spencer, what's wrong?" At some point during the course of Spencer's internal monologue Emily had sat up next to her and grabbed her arm. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head and carefully slit the letter open. She didn't know if this was real, but on the off chance that it was she took extra precautions to preserve the envelope. Now that he was gone she wanted every part of him that she could get. His hand might have brushed across the paper as he penned her name. His tongue might have moistened the adhesive. It was a part of him.

She carefully unfolded the letter, forcing her eyes to read it slowly. The more she took in the more sure she was of its authenticity. This wasn't something to be devoured and forgotten. No, these were his words. He might not be there to speak them to her, but they were things that he wanted her to know. It might be the last original thoughts that she ever got from the person that she loved the most in the world. No, she was going to savor this.

Spencer,

God, that doesn't seem like a good enough greeting for you. What else could I say though? Is there even a word to express what I feel for you? You know who you are, and you know what you mean to me. I love you so much.

I have to write this fast. I told you that I had an undeniable McDonald's craving, so you jumped up to go get me some french fries. You're way too excited about the possibility of getting me fat, baby. I've got to tell you. But I've got to get this written before you get back or you'll suspect my master plan.

I know that you have to be confused right now, and I'm sure you're rolling your eyes at the morbidity of it all; except you're probably saying it much more poetically than I ever could. Just go with it. I'll explain soon. Don't try to figure it out, because it's way too clever. I've known you about ninety percent of my life, Spencer Hastings, and I've loved you for a huge chunk of it. I know you, and I've Spencer-proofed this.

Spencer, I just- God, baby I love you so much. I love you so much that it hurts every day to think that I'm going to end up leaving you alone. You have to know that if I could have done anything about it I would have. I never wanted to leave you. I wanted to spend every single day with you. I wanted to be there to hold you when you were sad. I wanted to kiss away your insecurities. I wanted to share your victories. I wanted it all. I'm so sorry I'm not there.

Happy anniversary, by the way. I'm just sitting here imagining life without you, and I just can't even bear thinking about it. But I know who you are, Spencer. I know who you are better than anyone, and I know that you'll be okay. You're shaking your head, I know you are. But it's true, baby. I promise you that it's true. You can do anything. It just may take some time, but I'll help you. I promise.

But considering the significance of today, I thought you could use a little help. Do you remember our first anniversary? You got me good. I was sad that we couldn't be together, but I accepted it; I walk into my apartment and them BAM romantic dinner. Hold onto those memories, okay? Remember those times. Don't dwell in the sadness. Remember the good times that we had together, because God knows we had our fair share of those. But above everything else just remember how much I love you. I love you Spencer. Loving you was the best part of my life.

Last thing, go outside at some point today. I know you probably haven't left the apartment. I wouldn't have either. But it's our anniversary! You have to celebrate, even if I'm not there to join you. You can't refuse the dying/dead man. Go!

I love you.

Toby.

She felt Emily gently pry the letter from her trembling hands. It was as though she lost the ability to move or to even think. He- He just knew her so well. He knew that she'd have trouble moving on. He knew that she'd be upset. This didn't fix anything, but it- it did something. She wasn't even sure what it did. It felt like someone kicked her in the stomach and then let butterflies loose in her digestive system.

All she was sure of was that just when she thought she couldn't love Toby Cavanaugh any more the idiot proved her wrong. Her love for him was growing even from beyond the grave.

She couldn't stop a small smile from playing at her lips from the memories of their first anniversary.

Spencer's stomach clenched in sheer nervous energy. This was either going to end wonderfully or it was going to end terribly. He wouldn't be mad that she had misled him, would he?

She was about to find out, she thought ruefully to herself as she checked his text message. Her nana's lasagna was bubbling in the oven, the recipe surprisingly easy to follow. A bottle of red wine that she had swiped from her father's stash was artfully placed among the candles on the table. The table was made, the salad was resting in a bowl next to the wine. All she needed was Toby.

She looked up expectantly as she heard the sound of a key in the lock. She panicked for a moment, having not thought of what to do at this point. Quickly she decided just to sit down and wait for him to notice her. It would work best that way, probably.

His head was down as he slipped into the loft. Her position was perfect for observing him, because he wouldn't see her right away. When he looked up the shock on his face was priceless. She couldn't hold back a small giggle.

At the sound of her voice his head immediately turned to her hiding spot, and his confusion immediately transformed into the easy smile that he always wore when he looked at her. "Did you do this?" He approached her and held out both hands to help her up. She took his hands, but instead of just helping her up he pulled her all the way into his warm embrace. "I seriously love you, Spencer."

They had been dating for a year, but hearing him say those words still felt like a novelty. It felt like a gift. Who was she to deserve someone as incredible as Toby Cavanaugh? "I love you too. I'm sorry for tricking you. I just thought it would be more fun this way."

"Well, it was certainly a shock," he mumbled with his lips against the top of her head. "But a good one. So there was no dinner with your family?"

"Are you kidding? Do you really think I would have let a stupid little dinner keep me from celebrating our anniversary?" She leaned backward and pressed a passionate kiss to his lips, cutting off any reply that he would have had.

She reluctantly pulled away and tilted her head to the side with a soft smile. "Are you hungry?"

"Starved actually. Whatever you made smells great." He slid a gentle hand down her arm and interlocked her fingers with his. He pulled a chair out for her, but she looked up at him questioningly. This was her dinner. She should be serving him. He rolled his eyes and guided her down onto the chair. "You did all the work. At least let me serve you."

She nodded, feeling agreeable to just about anything right now. Growing up she always knew she would get married one day, but she didn't think it would be for love. She thought that she would end up with some doctor or lawyer that her parents picked out for her. It wasn't that she was close to marrying anyone right now, but she could one day see herself ending up with Toby. He loved her without conditions, and it was the first time in her life that she felt that way. He cared for her and looked after her like she was the most important thing to him. She knew that a majority of it was his background. The things that he had been through had taught him to approach love carefully, but then once he felt love he expressed it unconditionally and uncontrollably. She was lucky to have him.

"Spence?"

She blinked a few times and looked back up at him, leaving behind her contemplative thoughts. He smiled at her and reached across the table for her hand. "Where were you?" He chucked.

"Just thinking about how much I love you," she admitted. "And how lucky I am to have you."

He put down his fork and stood up, leaning across the table and kissing her. She could feel his hands gently running down her back, always so gently. He tasted like tomato sauce and smelled like a mix between a forest and a piece of freshly cut wood. Her chest burned with love for him. It was enough to bring her to her knees, but luckily the strong hands of the person she loved the most in the world held her up.

"Oh Spencer-" Emily's sad sigh tore her from her memories, and the smile immediately left her face.

Yeah, she had those memories, but what was the good in thinking about them? It only made her all the more devastated over what she lost. It wasn't just that she lost her husband. It was that she lost the most pure and true form of love imaginable. She lost her best friend, her support system, her protector, her life. She lost everything in one go. What were you supposed to do when the worst thing happened? How were you supposed to recover from that? How were you supposed to go on?

"Where do you want to go?" Emily's hand was soft on her arm, trying to attract her attention.

Was she kidding? Spencer shrugged Emily's hands off and laid back on the bed, curling up into a ball. She clasped her arms around her legs and buried her face in her knees. She didn't want to do anything. Especially not today.

"Spencer, Toby was pretty clear. You need to leave the apartment." Emily's voice was tentative.

"Well Toby's not here, is he?" Her voice was soft and broken. It was almost embarrassing, but what else was she supposed to say? It was true.

The bed shifted as Emily laid down next to her and put her hands back on Spencer's arms. Spencer immediately shrugged away, but Emily didn't relent. She pulled Spencer to her, but even while Spencer struggled she knew how wonderful it felt to be touched, to be comforted. She didn't want pity, but she hadn't even realized how greatly she craved physical comfort. She leaned into Emily's embrace and tried desperately to control her tears, but it didn't work.

Her stomach ached and tears ran down her cheeks. A racking cough forced its way through her sore throat. Her renewed sobs were bordering on hysterical. "I-" She chocked out and tucked her face into the crook of Emily's neck. "Why?" Why did Toby have to leave her? Why did he have to go? Why did he have to leave her alone?

Her limited words were distorted by her painful sobs, but somehow Emily knew exactly what she was asking. "He loved you Spencer. You can't possibly doubt that. He loved you. You were his world, Spence. I don't think that you could have noticed it, but his face lit up every single time he saw you. If he was mad he immediately relaxed when you walked into the room. If he was sad you were the only person that could make him feel better. You were everything to him. He never would have left you if he had any choice in it. He loved you Spencer. He spent most of his life loving you, and it never lessened. It never waned."

She shook her head. Not because she didn't believe Emily's words, but because did believe them. She knew that Emily was right, but that didn't make this any easier. She tried to control herself long enough to formulate a response, but she truly couldn't calm down. Loud sobs rocked through her entire body. Most of the time Spencer prided herself on her control, but this? She wasn't capable of anything right now. She couldn't calm down. She couldn't slow the flow of the tears. Hell, she could barely breath.

Spencer could feel the trembling of Emily's hands as she stroked her hair. "You guys were an example. You are an example. I've never had what you two had. And if I didn't see the living embodiment of true love in front of me every single day I might have given up on it. I might have settled for less than I deserved. But the two of you together showed me that it was real. That there's someone out there for me that's worth waiting for. I only wish I had gotten a chance to thank Toby for that knowledge too. I know that this is hard, Spencer. I know that it's an impossible situation. How are you supposed to move on from this? And I don't know what to tell you. I don't know how it'll be possible. But I know that if anyone can do it it's you."

"Why did he leave me?" Spencer sobbed. She rubbed the back of her hand across her nose, trying to swipe away some of the disgusting snot bubbles that were settling there. She couldn't remember a time when she had cried like this. Not when she broke her arm. Not when her nana died. Not when she found out what that disgusting bitch, Jenna, was doing to Toby. Never.

And she knew why. Because nothing had ever hurt this badly in her life, and she couldn't imagine ever feeling this kind of pain again. She went from feeling a debilitating sense sadness to an all-consuming pain. One moment she would lay, curled up in bed, dwelling on the fact that she would never see Toby again. She would never hear him tell her that he loved her. They would never get to do all of the things that they had planned to do together. She would never carry his children. They wouldn't grow old together like they had always planned. She wasn't just mourning Toby. She was mourning the whole life that they had planned to build together. They life that she had grown to count on. The life that she thought that she had all the time in the world to begin, and the life that she would never have now. Then the next minute that sadness turned into a pain so intense that it felt like a pair of claws were mercilessly ripping her heart out of her chest. How was she supposed to go on.

"Right before he died Toby and I had a conversation," Emily began carefully. "It was right before they sent him home, and you had been in the hospital with him for 72 hours straight. He sent you to get some food. I remember his eyes watching your back until he was certain that you were gone. When he turned back to me his eyes were welling up with tears. You think your crying is bad? This I can handle. I don't want to see you cry, don't get me wrong, but Toby crying was the literal worst thing in the world."

She finally was able to stifle her sobs, but the tears didn't slow. It was progress all the same. She nodded against Emily's shoulders, knowing exactly what she meant. Before he got sick she had seen him cry exactly one time, and that wasn't a memory that she cared to relive, even in her most painful moments.

Emily continued to stroke her hair as she continued, her free hand tightening around Spencer's body. "He just looked at me for a second, the tears welling up and spilling down his cheeks. I wanted to comfort him, but you knew Toby better than anyone. You know that wouldn't have worked on him. So I just sat on the edge of the bed and held his hand until he was ready to talk. He nodded a few times to himself, like he was trying to work himself up to telling me what he needed to tell me."

"What did he say?" Spencer whispered through Emily's pause. She didn't like anything that made him cry, but she knew that Emily must have had a purpose in regaling this particular story in the midst of her breakdown.

"He told me that he knew he was going to die. He could feel the sickness spreading, and that he was feeling weaker every day. He assured me that he'd keep fighting, but he knew that it was a fight that he'd lose. And he told me that- that you were what was keeping him holding on. He knew that you'd react like this, and he made me promise t-that I wouldn't let you waste away. He made me promise to be there for you. Don't make me break my last promise to him, Spence. Let me help you."

Now Emily was crying, and that wasn't something that she was okay with. Try as she might, her protective instincts reared their ugly face. "Lying to Toby-"

"Is like lying to the Dali Llama," Emily finished with a watery chuckle.

It wasn't the first time that they had said it, and it was so unbelievably true. Lying to her sweet, honest, open husband was worse than lying to anyone else, because he never suspected you of duplicity. Mostly because he never thought to lie himself. It was the worst.

More than that, though, was that she wasn't going to refuse one of her dead husband's dying wishes. She wasn't going to be okay for awhile, maybe never again. But she could let Emily keep her promise. "Breakfast?" She suggested quietly. She wasn't sure that she was up for much more than that.

She could hear the relief in Emily's voice. "Perfect. Should I invite Hanna and Caleb? It's 5 am, but maybe we can hit Denny's?"

"I guess I should show them that I'm still alive," she muttered, drying her eyes. The tears were finally slowing, but she didn't think that they were ever going to stop completely. Good thing Denny's wasn't exactly of the dress to impress category.

She slid out of bed and walked to the closet, pulling out one of Toby's undershirts, a tshirt, and a pair of jeans. She didn't care what she looked like, but she couldn't bear to be completely separate from her husband. The skin on his clothes technique was surprisingly effective, and she wasn't sure that she would be able to hold it together at all without the security blanket of her husband's clothes.

While Emily talked to either Hanna or Caleb in a muted voice she pulled the letter to her again. Her fingers lightly traced over the indentations from the declaration he had spoken to her so many times. I love you too, Toby.