Chapter 11: The Letter

Tick tock.

Flip.

Tick tock.

'This is awkward…' Lulu thought while she resisted the urge to drum her fingers against the table, instead wrapping them around the warm mug of tea Elise had given her.

After handing over the letter, Lulu had been invited into their home. She hadn't even asked if Lulu liked tea—just handed her the cup on autopilot before sitting down and wordlessly tearing open the envelope.

Now, she sat across from Lulu, absorbed in Henry's letter.

It was much longer than Lulu expected. She had assumed Henry would keep it brief—something heartfelt but concise, like I'm sorry, I love you, I hope you can forgive me. Instead, the letter had several pages densely-packed with words.

Elise's expression was unreadable as she read, her eyes flicking back and forth across the paper, occasionally narrowing or softening.

A nosey part of Lulu wished she could ask Henry what exactly he'd written, but knew it wasn't her place. Not to mention if she had asked him, he likely wouldn't have even heard her. His gaze was frozen and completely fixated on her every shift in expression.

He sat next to Elise's chair, staring at his daughter with an intensity Lulu wasn't used to seeing from him. His hands were clenched, his lips pressed into a thin line, and for once, he was utterly silent.

The minutes stretched. The only sounds were the ticking of the antique clock and the flip of a page.

Lulu took a slow sip of her tea, trying not to grimace at the bitter taste. Unfortunately, no milk or sugar had been offered when the cup was handed to her. But given the heavy news she'd just delivered, Lulu wasn't going to criticize the lack of hospitality.

Finally, Elise let out a quiet choked sigh and set the letter down. She didn't speak right away, just stared at the papers in front of her like she wasn't sure what to do with them.

Henry leaned forward instinctively.

"What… what does it say?" Lulu asked, more to fill the silence than anything else and also due to her burning curiosity.

Elise ran a hand under her slightly misty eyes, exhaling slowly. "A lot."

Lulu waited, but Elise didn't elaborate.

"Right…" Lulu muttered.

Henry finally found his voice, his words almost frantic. "Elise… what are you thinking?" His gaze flickered to the letter. "Did I say too much? Not enough?"

Elise, of course, didn't answer him—she couldn't even hear him.

Instead, she picked up the letter again, skimming a section near the end. Her jaw tightened, and she let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

"Unbelievable," she murmured.

Lulu glanced at Henry. "What part?"

Elise looked at Lulu sharply, like she'd forgotten she was there. "What?"

"Uh." Lulu cleared her throat. "You just said unbelievable. What part?"

Elise exhaled, shaking her head. "It's just… typical, that's all." She tapped a finger against the paper. "Even in this, he still can't say it outright."

Henry flinched. "Say what?"

Lulu frowned. "Say what?" she echoed.

Elise's lips pressed together, like she was debating whether to respond. Finally, she sighed. "An apology."

Henry recoiled as if struck. "But— But the whole letter—"

Elise continued, oblivious to his reaction. "He explains. He justifies. He talks about how much he missed me, how he thought about reaching out, how he regrets things… But he never actually says I'm sorry in those exact words."

Lulu grimaced. Yikes.

Henry opened his mouth, then shut it again. He looked like a man who had spent hours meticulously crafting an apology letter, only to realize too late that he never actually wrote the words I'm sorry.

Lulu sighed, setting her mug down with a quiet clink.

Elise stared at the letter for a long moment. Then, finally, she folded it neatly, pressing down the creases with careful precision.

After some more small talk in which Lulu could see Elise was still processing everything, Lulu left her home.

'It's a lot less satisfying than I thought it would be…'

And looking at Henry's distraught appearance, she could tell he felt the same way.

Although she had delivered the letter, she felt as though he was definitely no closer to passing on.

'So… what now?'