The Letter from Ten Years Ago​

My husband received a love letter from a thirteen-year-old girl. She claimed to be his wife from a past life, and she’d drawn him a ninety-nine-page confession in crayon.

【Mr. White, when I grow up, I’m going to marry you!】

My husband and I couldn’t help but laugh. We found the girl and gently set her straight.

“Sweetheart, I already have someone I love. What you need to be doing right now is focusing on your studies.”

When we got home, I teased my husband about breaking a little girl’s heart. He just smiled noncommittally.

It wasn't until more than a decade later that I found that same love letter, tucked away in a locked cabinet in our house.

It had been carefully preserved. On the final page, a few words were written in a familiar hand.

【Lily, I’ll wait for you to grow up.】

1

I stared at the letter for a long time, frozen in place.

It was made of multicolored construction paper, each piece cut into the shape of a heart and glued together. Ninety-nine of them. A gift from a thirteen-year-old girl to my husband, Ethan, over a decade ago.

Back then, we’d thought it was a joke.

“Sweetheart, I already have someone I love,” Ethan had told her, his voice kind. “What you need to be doing right now is focusing on your studies.” The little girl had burst into tears and run away.

I’d teased him about it later, and he’d just shrugged it off with a smile.

So why was this letter here, locked away in his private cabinet?

I flipped through the pages, my fingers trembling slightly. On the very last heart, I saw a line of handwriting I recognized instantly. It was Ethan’s.

【Lily, I’ll wait for you to grow up.】

I froze. The little girl who’d given him the letter… her name was Lily.

My hand flew to my mouth, a strangled gasp escaping my lips. My body started to shake, but my mind was unnervingly clear. I rifled through the rest of the contents of the cabinet. More letters. I tore them open, one by one.

【Mr. White, I’m in the ninth grade now! I’m a year older, which means I’m only four years away from eighteen. Remember your promise. You have to wait for me.】

【Mr. White, I have my midterms today. Wish me luck!】

【I did badly on my exams :( My mom yelled at me.】

【Mr. White, today I became a real woman. I got my first period. Do you know what that means? It means… I can have your babies now!】

【Mr. White…】

【Mr. White…】

【Mr. White, my mom bought me a cell phone! Let’s exchange numbers. I don’t want to send letters anymore.】

【Mr. White, my Instagram handle is @CappuccinoLover. You should follow me!】

The letters were arranged chronologically. After that last one, there were no more. They had started communicating by phone.

I did the math. That was the year she turned eighteen.

A wave of nausea washed over me. I ran to the bathroom and threw up.

If I hadn’t come back to our old house today to help Ethan clear out some of his things, I would have never known. I would have gone on believing he was the perfect husband—gentle, stable, and devoted. For over a decade, he’d bee...