The lobby of the hotel hasn't changed in the three years since she's been here. The hideous orange upholstered chairs still sit in front of the windows overlooking the bustling city streets, dark wooden tables are still adorned with flowers. The room is nearly empty at this time of morning and Kate looks around, figures the front desk is her best bet.

"Hi, I think someone dropped something off for me here. Kate Beckett."

The young woman, perfectly polished and poised, smiles. "Ah yes, Ms. Beckett." She rummages through a pile on her desk, pulling out an envelope identical to all the others.

Kate smiles in thanks and heads over to one of the chairs. There's no wedding here today, just tourists going in and out of the hotel in search of an adventure and she looks around, recalling the shock of learning just who Kyra was to Castle, the way his eyes seemed sad - even a little lost - in the aftermath of it. It wasn't that she worried about Kyra when they started to date. She knew Castle was over her, but she also wondered if she could ever measure up to what was once the love of his life. It dissipated over time; there were some nights they talked about the past, about mistakes made, if either of them would ever go back. It reassured Kate in more ways than one but being here now -

She unfolds the paper and scans over the letter - another lengthy one - and she wonders about how much time he spent writing these, how long he's been planning this.

I debated whether or not to leave you a clue in the form of a book I wrote for an ex. I considered a Nikki Heat novel (please remember that in the tally of books I've written for people, you will by far win in the end) but that wouldn't have conveyed the point as to why I chose to add this particular location to the itinerary.

I once believed Kyra was the love of my life. She loved me for me. Before the books, before the fame, before the money. To her, I would always just be Rick Rodgers, that guy with ruggedly handsome good looks who hit on her freshman year in the campus bookstore, the man she fell in love with. When she left me, I truly believed I was done. I swore to myself I would never get involved with someone like that again. I met Meredith and then Gina and they were both so very different from Kyra that it made me love them. Even when they hurt me, it was never as bad as I knew it could have been.

And then I met you. You were real, Kate. More real than anyone had ever been with me, including Kyra, and if I'm being honest, you frightened me a little. (Still do, actually. Especially when you give me that look like you know exactly what I'm thinking and are about to make me regret it.) After seeing Kyra again in this hotel, it wasn't her I missed so much as it was being with someone. I missed telling someone about my day at the end of it. I missed talking about all the unimportant things and at the time I don't think I realized that that's what we had started to do with each other. We were in an elevator or maybe on one of the floors and I told you how Kyra and I met. I don't know what I expected from you but it wasn't what I got. Your voice was different, softer somehow, and you told me you didn't think I went for real. It seemed like you changed after that case, after meeting Kyra. You started to trust me more.

We went to Kyra's wedding together, something I'm still not entirely sure of how it happened. But we went and we had fun (though you denied it vociferously later). I remember how you balked when I pulled you onto the dance floor. You started out so tense, holding your amazing, perfect body as far away from me as you could while still calling it dancing. But, slowly, you drifted closer and, as the tension drained out of your posture and you started to relax, I realized for the first time that I wanted more. It wasn't about trying to sleep with you anymore. It wasn't about Nikki Heat or my novels. It was in this hotel, at the former love of my life's wedding that I realized I had feelings for you. Unorthodox, yes, but very fitting, I think.

Kyra is a part of my past that I will never regret. She saw me turn from Rick Rodgers into Richard Castle and had enough faith in me to believe I could be anything I wanted, including a world famous novelist. But you, Kate - you're my future. The phrase 'love of my life' now sounds cliché, overused, and not at all accurate. You're my best friend, my partner. You yell at me when I'm wrong, kick my ass when it needs kicking, tell me if my writing needs to be tweaked even if editing is my least favorite thing ever (aside from dead bodies falling on me and mummy curses, of course). You're not afraid to stand up to me or for me. You have no reservations about loving me (not anymore, anyway). When I lost Kyra, I moved on. I lived.

I cannot fathom losing you. Ever.

Which brings me to our next stop. The first time I thought I lost you. (I hate that there's been more than once. Don't you have any desire to be a sexy bartender at the Old Haunt or something?)

She lets the letter flutter to her lap, eyes drifting over the lobby. She remembers that night with him. She'd really had no reason to attend the wedding other than Castle's insistence that he needed a date because there was no way he could go to his ex-girlfriend's wedding without one. Her grudging agreement had been partially for show because there was a very real, very deep, part of her that had wanted to go, wanted to sit by his side while he closed the book on his story with Kyra Blaine. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Kate gathers her composure and stands, tucking the letter back into its envelope.

She sends him a text as she pushes out of the heavy glass door of the hotel, the sun glinting off the shiny touchscreen.

I love you.