Good morning lovely readers. Just wanted to leave a quick note to address the elephant in the room: the angst.
I was actually just discussing this with someone only yesterday! I said I was waiting to be called out and it seems that yesterday was the day, with several people flocking to my private messages to express their disappontment. Fair.
So, I set myself a challenge with this story to keep it angst free. And, yes, i shared that challenge with you all in a note on a much earlier chapter. And, yes, I have since (very obviously) failed/abandoned that challenge.
For a lot of you, who have read all or most of my other stories, you probably read that challenge and laughed. Because, let's be real, I'm just an angsty little thing at heart and I was destined to fail. But I figured you all have free will and would simply stop reading once you decided the story wasn't for you.
However, for those who weren't expecting it and feel like you've wasted your time, I apologise for the misrepresentation.
Anyways - for those who are continuing on this journey, here comes more angst, more sweetness, more compromise and more... whatever else happens along the way! At this point, I'll probably be just as surprised as you guys.
Thank you.
Rick's knuckles rapped against Kate's apartment door, a staccato rhythm that echoed his impatience.
He had barely made it through the day, his mind a whirlwind of frustration and stress. But as soon as he saw Kate, her smile wide and her hazel eyes sparkling with anticipation, all that faded away. He cupped her face with both hands and pulled her into a fierce kiss, their lips crashing together in a frenzy of passion. Caught off guard, Kate stumbled backward, her hands reaching instinctively for Rick's shirt. They fumbled their way from the door, their lips never parting, their hands frantically undressing each other. Clothes were strewn across the floor, forgotten in their haste.
Kate pushed Rick down onto the couch, straddling him. Their mouths met again, tongues dancing in a fervent waltz and her hands explored his toned chest, her nails raking against his skin, eliciting a deep growl from him. She could feel him pressing against her, and she couldn't help but grind against him, smiling as he groaned and tightened his grip on her waist.
With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Kate slipped down between his knees, her eyes never leaving his. Rick let out a hiss, his hands tangling in her hair as he lost himself in the sensations—the caress of her hand, the tease of her tongue, the love in her eyes—until he couldn't hold back anymore. He wanted to feel her, too. He wanted to forget about the world outside and lose himself in her. He pulled her up, his lips crashing against hers.
He flipped her over, her back hitting the soft cushions of the couch, and settled between her legs.
Kate moaned and pulled him closer, her body begging for him.
Rick obliged, and their bodies melded together in a dance as old as time.
When the dance was over and the room became still, they lay there, their bodies still intertwined, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room and their hearts beating in sync. They knew this was the end, but for now, they were together. And that was all that mattered.
An hour later, Kate sat across from Rick at a corner booth in an intimate little restaurant, the candlelight flickering between them. It cast golden hues over his face, softening the shadows beneath his eyes. He looked tired—of course he did. The past week had been a whirlwind. But tonight, for just a little while, the world could wait.
They talked over dinner, sharing bites from each other's plates, reminiscing on the night they had met, on the highlights of their time together since. He teased her about how stubborn she had been. She rolled her eyes but couldn't fight the smile tugging at her lips. The weight of Sunday lingered in the air between them, unspoken but ever-present. So they filled the space with laughter, stealing moments of joy where they could.
After dinner, they made their way to Illusions, the nightclub where it had all begun. The music pulsed beneath their feet, but they stayed near the bar, standing close, his hand resting at the small of her back. It felt like a lifetime ago that he had spotted her across the room, that mesmerising smile on her face. Now, that same face looked at him with nothing but love.
They let themselves forget, just for tonight. Let themselves lose track of time as they moved together in the crowd, his arms wrapped around her waist, his lips brushing against her temple. When they finally made it home to her apartment, she pulled him inside without a word, kissing him as if she could make time stop.
Saturday was quiet. Comfortable.
Rick stood at the stove, stirring a pot of sauce while Kate chopped vegetables at the counter. There was something deeply intimate about cooking together—no grand gestures, no big declarations, just the simplicity of shared space.
"You're doing that wrong," he teased her, watching as she absolutely butchered a bell pepper.
She flicked a piece of pepper at him. He gasped, feigning outrage, and then he was behind her, arms circling her waist, pulling her close. The music playing in the background shifted to something slow, something soft. Without thinking, he swayed with her, his chin resting on her shoulder.
Kate melted into him, her hands covering his. "This is nice," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah," he agreed. "It is."
They stayed like that, moving in time with the music, the candlelight casting long shadows across the walls.
Later, they curled up on the couch, tangled together beneath a blanket, an old black-and-white movie playing on the screen. Neither of them was really watching. Her fingers traced idle patterns against his arm, his lips pressed absently against the top of her head. It was like trying to bottle the moment, to memorize the way it felt to be here, to be them, before everything changed.
Sunday morning was slow. Deliberate.
Kate woke to the warmth of Rick's body against hers, his arm heavy across her waist. The city was waking outside, but here, in this bed, time felt different. She turned, pressing a lazy kiss against his jaw, breathing him in.
"Morning," he murmured, eyes still closed.
"Morning."
They stayed there, wrapped up in sheets and each other, whispering about nothing and everything. Fingers trailing over skin. Lips finding familiar places. They didn't talk about what came next. Not yet.
When the afternoon crept in, Kate finally broke the silence. "I can take you to the airport."
Rick shook his head, smiling softly. "I don't want to do the whole drawn-out goodbye. This weekend was perfect—I'd rather end it here."
Kate swallowed, her throat tightening. She nodded, but when he leaned in to kiss her, the tears came anyway. Just a few. He caught them with his lips, brushing them away before pulling her in for one last, lingering kiss.
Then he was gone.
And Kate stood in the quiet of her apartment, already missing him.
The apartment was too quiet.
Kate had known it would feel like this, had braced herself for the silence that came after he left, but still, the emptiness settled over her like a heavy fog. She had spent the last two days wrapped up in him, absorbing his presence like sunlight, pretending she could store it away to keep herself warm when he was gone.
But now he was gone.
She sighed, running a hand through her hair as she sat on the edge of her bed. It still smelled like him. The ache in her chest deepened.
Something caught her eye—the bedside drawer, left slightly ajar.
Frowning, she reached for it and pulled it open. Inside, neatly stacked, were six envelopes. Her breath caught as she picked them up, reading the labels written in his familiar scrawl:
- Open now
- Open when you miss me
- Open when you're having a bad day
- Open when you're having a good day
- Open when you're bored
- Open when you're alone (and only when you're alone!)
A soft laugh bubbled up before she could stop it, but it wavered, the weight of his absence pressing down on her again.
Of course he did this. Of course he found a way to be here even when he wasn't.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she carefully opened the first envelope, the one labelled Open now.
His handwriting filled the page, familiar and comforting.
Kate,
If you're reading this, then I'm already gone, and I hate that.
I hate that I had to walk out that door. Hate that I had to leave you in that apartment, standing there looking at me like you were trying to memorize me, like you were trying to hold me there with just your eyes.
If I had my way, I never would've left. You know that, right?
But if I have to go—if I have to—then I need you to know that I love you.
I love you in a way that doesn't make sense, in a way that rewrites the very laws of my universe. I love you in every version of every story I could ever write, in every timeline, in every world.
And I will miss you. Like crazy.
I will miss the way your eyes soften when you look at me. I will miss the sound of your laugh, the way you roll your eyes at my terrible jokes but secretly love them. I will miss the weight of your head on my chest when you fall asleep, the warmth of your hand in mine, the way you make me feel like home is a person, not a place.
I don't know how long we'll have to do this. I don't know what's waiting for us on the other side of this distance. But I know this:
I will come back to you.
I will always come back to you.
Until then, keep these letters close. Let me be there for you in the only way I can right now.
Yours, always,
Rick
Kate pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, tears slipping down her cheeks before she could stop them.
She read the letter again. And again.
And then, with all the strength she could muster, she folded it carefully and placed it back in the envelope.
The other letters called to her, tempting her curiosity, but she resisted. She would follow his wishes, open them when the time was right.
For now, she placed them back in the drawer, ran her fingers over his handwriting one last time, and whispered into the quiet,
"I love you too."