Epilogue

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Delicately, I folded up the last letter and tucked it into my pocket.

I have read his letters time and time again. I could probably recite them by heart, word for word, yet, I read all 61 over again. And again. And again.

A single tear rolled down my cheek bone and slid into the crevice at the corner of my lips, paving the way for plenty more tears to come.

The salty taste reminded me of the time Leo and I visited my Aunt's beach house in North Carolina.

Everything reminds me of him.

I smiled as a rush of sweet memories broke free, like birds flying out of a cage.

Leo.

The one who kept me going.

I smiled again, not being able to help myself.

Standing up, I wiped the tears from my eyes, brushed the snow off my jeans and trudged down the hill.

The sky was clear today, with the exception of a few lonely clouds.

My gaze drifted to two sparrows that soared over my head, they're cheerful songs lifting my mood a bit.

Snowflakes whirled around me and the sun smiled upon my face.

Today was perfect.

Well...

Almost.

There was one thing, well, one person, missing.

Leo.

I wrapped the blue scarf hanging on my shoulders a little tighter around my neck and buried my gloved hands deeper into my pocket.

Walking through the park gates, I stopped and looked around me at the people walking all throughout town.

Families from all over the county flocked to our small town of Samdun, Michigan to pick out a Christmas tree from the ever famous Dray Family Farm.

Stepping out on the sidewalk, I walked through town, stopping occasionally to glance in a store window at their Christmas display.

After doing my best to avoid bumping into the many pedestrians, I finally reached my destination.

A bright red and white striped canopy that read "Hamerton Cafe" hung over the front of the brick building.

Leo's family owned it, and I've visited almost every day since Leo has been gone.

When I pushed the door open, the bell tinkled and the smell of hot cocoa overwhelmed my senses.

That's what Hamerton Cafe was famous for, in the winter at least, hot cocoa of all kinds.

And in the summer, their frozen custard, which, might I add, was absolutely delicious.

I pulled off my gloves and loosened my scarf, hanging my coat on the second chair from the end. My usual seat at the counter.

Marcy, Leo's mother, walked through the kitchen doors.

She smiled at me and her hand came to a rest on my forearm.

"I thought that was you. How are you doing sweetheart?" She asked gently and I noticed something different in her eyes.

She almost had an air of excitement around her.

I gave her my best "I'm okay" smile, one that I had perfected over the past few months.

"I'm getting better every day." I chirped. In reality though, I felt as if I was getting worse. I was missing Leo more and more as each day passed.

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