His Letter

Olivia’s POV

Lennox led me to his room. He pushed the door open and stepped aside, letting me enter first. I was nervous; my steps were slow and unsure. I had no idea what he was about to show me, but I sensed it was something significant.

I turned just in time to see him walk in and close the door gently behind us. He didn’t speak, nor did he look at me. He simply crossed the room, not to his usual safe—the one containing my father’s papers—but to a different area. He stopped before a painting, slid it aside, revealing another safe hidden behind it.

This safe appeared newer, more private. He typed in a code, his fingers moving with practiced ease. I heard a low beep, followed by the mechanical click of the lock releasing.

He opened the safe. After a moment, he reached inside and withdrew a thick, sealed envelope. It looked old, handled, important. He stared at it for a moment too long, as if its contents were too heavy to relinquish. Then, silently, he turned and extended it toward me.

My breath caught.

“Take it,” he said, his voice low.

I hesitated before approaching. When close enough, I reached out and took the envelope, my fingers brushing against his.

“What’s inside?” I asked softly.

Lennox sighed. “I never wanted anyone to see it,” he said in a low voice, the pain and hurt evident. “I don’t know why I’m showing this to you,” he continued, and I swallowed hard. What could possibly be inside? What had I unknowingly done? Had I hurt him and his brothers without realizing it? At that moment, I searched my memory, but I couldn’t recall anything that would warrant such animosity.

“What is in here?” I asked again, carefully maintaining my pretense of memory loss.

He looked at me with a hard expression. “Proof,” he said. “Of what happened. Of what she did to me… proof of why I hated her.”

I swallowed hard and looked down at the envelope in my hand. It felt heavy.

“Open it,” he said.

And with trembling fingers, I began to tear it open.

When I opened the envelope, I pulled out the first item, and my breath hitched. It was a necklace—a necklace Lennox had given me on my eleventh birthday. It had disappeared after my fourteenth birthday; I searched everywhere, but it vanished. How did Lennox possess it? I wanted to ask him, but I simply said, “This is beautiful. Was this hers?” I asked reluctantly.

Lennox hesitated before nodding, his eyes fixed on the gold necklace in my hand. “It was a gift I gave to her on her eleventh birthday, but she returned it to me,” he said, and my eyes widened. What did he mean I returned it? I never did! I lost it!

I wished I could tell him, but I refrained.

Growing more curious, I reached for the next item. With shaky fingers, I reached into the envelope again, still holding the necklace. My heart beat faster, anticipating what was to come.

I pulled out a folded piece of paper—slightly yellowed, carefully preserved, like something precious. My eyes flicked up to Lennox, and for the first time since opening the envelope, I saw a shift in his expression. He drew a slow, deep breath; his jaw tensed.

“That’s the letter I wrote to her,” he said softly, almost as if speaking to a ghost.

I looked down at the paper and slowly unfolded it. The handwriting was undeniably his.

The first words stole my breath:

HAPPY 14TH BIRTHDAY, OLI.

I TOLD MYSELF I WOULDN’T WRITE THIS. THAT I WOULD STAY IN MY PLACE. THAT I’D JUST BE THE PROTECTIVE OLDER BROTHER FIGURE I PROMISED MYSELF I’D BE THE DAY I FIRST HELD YOU AS A PUP AND YOU CLUNG TO MY SHIRT LIKE I WAS YOUR WHOLE WORLD.

BUT I’VE FAILED MISERABLY AT STAYING IN MY PLACE.

I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHEN IT HAPPENED–WHEN YOU STOPPED BEING THE GIRL I PROTECTED AND BECAME THE GIRL I WATCHED FROM A DISTANCE, TERRIFIED OF WHAT I FELT. I FOUGHT IT. SPIRITS, I FOUGHT IT HARDER THAN I’VE EVER FOUGHT ANYTHING. I’VE ALWAYS SHARED EVERYTHING WITH MY BROTHERS–OUR VICTORIES, OUR PAIN, OUR RESPONSIBILITIES. BUT WITH YOU… I COULDN’T. I DIDN’T WANT TO.

I HATED HOW MY CHEST BURNED WHEN YOU SMILED AT THEM LONGER THAN YOU SMILED AT ME. I HATED HOW JEALOUS I GOT WHEN THEY MADE YOU LAUGH. I HATED HOW SMALL I FELT WHEN YOU GAVE THEM YOUR ATTENTION LIKE IT DIDN’T COST YOU A THING–BECAUSE FOR ME, EVEN A SECOND OF YOUR GAZE FELT LIKE EVERYTHING.

I DIDN’T WANT TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU. BUT I DID.

AND I DON’T EXPECT ANYTHING IN RETURN. I KNOW I’M OLDER. I KNOW THIS IS TOO MUCH. YOU’RE JUST FOURTEEN. YOU PROBABLY DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT I’M SAYING. BUT THIS IS JUST ME BEING BRAVE FOR ONCE.

BUT IF YOU FEEL ANYTHING AT ALL, EVEN JUST A LITTLE… WRITE BACK. YOU DON’T HAVE TO SAY MUCH. JUST LET ME KNOW HOW YOU FEEL.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OLIVIA.

I HOPE TODAY, YOU FELT LOVED.

BECAUSE YOU ARE.

-LENNOX

I reread it. And again. My lips parted slightly as I read the last line. I stared at it, my heart cracking a little more with each word. My hands trembled.

I looked up at him, barely able to conceal my confusion. “This… this was for her?” I asked, trying not to scream.

Knowing Lennox loved me was unbelievable. That meant I wasn't the only one in love with him—with them. My feelings weren’t one-sided… he loved me too… he'd written me a confession.

“Yes,” he said, watching me closely. “I gave it to her on her birthday. Slipped it into a box of gifts I gave her.”

My mind raced. I never saw this letter. I never received it. I never opened that box. Who opened it? Who read the letter?

“She gave me a reply. It’s in the envelope too.”

My hands froze. I didn’t write a reply. How could I reply to a message I never received? What the hell was happening?

Panicking, silently, I reached into the envelope again. There was another folded paper inside—my supposed reply. My stomach twisted as I touched it. Something wasn’t right. But I had to see what it said. I had to know what I supposedly wrote.