By midnight, I had read six letters.
I should have stopped.
Instead, I made tea and kept going.
Year Seven was about the day my business failed.
Year Eight was about my mother's illness.
Year Nine was about the first time Daniel told me he was proud of the woman I had become.
But Year Ten was different.
It began with a sentence that made me sit upright.
Today I made a decision that Elaine can never know about.
My heart began pounding.
I read faster.
She will hate me if she finds out.
Perhaps she should.
But I have no other choice.
I turned the page.
The next paragraph had been crossed out.
Then another.
And another.
The final readable lines said:
If the day comes when she learns the truth, I hope she understands that I did it because I loved her.
I stared at the page.
What truth?
What had he done?
I searched the envelope.
Nothing.
No second page.
No explanation.
I opened Year Eleven.
This one was shorter.
Elaine,
I saw you laughing today while you were watering the flowers.
You didn't know I was watching.
I wanted to tell you something.
You saved my life.
I frowned.
Daniel had never been seriously ill.
At least, not that I knew.
I kept reading.
Years ago, when we were struggling, I thought I had failed you.
I thought being a good husband meant giving you everything you wanted.
I was wrong.
You taught me that a good life isn't built from money, houses, or perfect days.
It's built from choosing each other when life gives you every reason not to.
I cried then.
Not quietly.
I cried the way I had cried at the funeral.
The kind of crying that made your chest hurt.
Then I saw the final envelope.
Year Twelve.
It was thicker than the others.
On the front, Daniel had written:
READ THIS LAST.
I held it for a long time.
Then I noticed something underneath the envelope.
A small folded piece of paper.
I opened it.
There was an address.
No explanation.
Just an address and a name.
Mrs. Margaret Lewis.
I recognized the address.
It was on the other side of town.
Who was Margaret Lewis?
I called Rebecca.
"Did Daniel ever mention someone named Margaret?"
There was silence.
"Margaret Lewis?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I found something."
"Elaine, it's almost one in the morning."
"Please."
She sighed.
"I don't know. Wait."
I heard her thinking.
Then she said something that made my stomach tighten.
"Actually... yes."
"What?"
"Daniel mentioned her once."
"When?"
"About two years ago."
"What did he say?"
Rebecca hesitated.
"He said if anything ever happened to him, I should make sure you never went looking for her."
The room seemed to shrink.
I looked at the address.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
I closed my eyes.
There was a long silence between us.
Then Rebecca said softly, "Elaine, maybe you should leave the letters alone."
I looked at Year Twelve.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because Daniel left them for me."
I opened the envelope.
The letter inside contained only three lines.
My love,
The woman at this address knows the part of my life I never had the courage to tell you.
Go to her before you read the rest.
I stared at the words.
My husband's final letter had not given me an answer.
It had given me a destination.
And somehow, that frightened me more.