That Stupid Ring

Part 20

To prevent anyone from recognizing William, Alfred took the car all the way to the back. It turns out that the barn has built this big garage at the back, which then covered the barn from sight. No wonder I couldn't see it from the verandah. 

"But still, no more Gardenias?" Will asks as we walk toward the barn.

I shake my head. 

He sighs, "Edith would be so pissed if she knew."

"I know."

In her letter, Edith said the ring was kept hidden inside a wooden box, disguised under the hay inside the barn. Alfred goes right to it.

"This must be it," Alfred says, pulling a dark brown wooden box out, sweeping pieces of hay with his fingers.

I look at the box.

I know the ring is there. I can feel it. I can feel it because all of a sudden, my eyes got hot, like I'm about to cry. It gets to me. Being in this barn again, smelling the past. That smell of hay. 

The hay where William and I used to lay around after we watered Edith's gardenias.

And that feeling. It's back. That mount of affection that fills my heart when I watch him catching the fish just to impress me. That warmth I feel in my heart every time he holds my hand as we cross the river together. That love I feel when he wraps his hand around my body when we fall asleep.

That love that never went away, regardless how much I've been telling myself all these years that I should forget him and move on.

It's all coming back to me.

All I want to do know is to walk closer to him and hold his hand.

"Miss York?" Alfred says, calling me back to reality.

I blink.

"The key?" he asks.

"Oh," I look down and take the key from my jeans pocket. The key Edith enclosed in her letter.

I hand it to Alfred and he opens the box.

Inside is the ring and a bundle of letters tied by a white string.

"Your Highness, would you?" Alfred stands up and hands the box to William.

William looks into the box and pauses. But instead of the ring, he lifts the letters and handed them to me.

"I believe these are yours," he says. 

Alfred looks puzzled.

"I told you, right? I wrote you letters," William says again, "Here they are."

Shocked, I took the letters from him. The pile feels thick and the envelopes have turned yellowish. But it still reads clearly on the front: Paris York.

There's a small piece of paper tied around the string. I pull it and read:

...

Paris,

These letters arrived months after you're gone. The sender got the address wrong so it took some time for them to find you. I wanted to send them to you but I was afraid the postman might lose them again. So I decided to leave them with your ring. I hope you found them.

Or they found you.

Edith.

...

Oh my God.

I look up to see William.

Oh my God.

...