Eight

FROM A DISTANCE Tommy’s eyes fixed on Francesca, he was deaf to the din of people and the constant announcements spewing from the airport’s public address system. She wore the yellow sundress from their first date, and her glossy mink hair haloed her face as it had then. For the minutest moment, Tommy thought he could smell a subtle hint of her sweet perfume.

For a long time, Tommy watched Francesca, wishing he could touch her, talk to her, but her father’s presence made it an impossibility.

When her flight was called, Tommy watched Francesca hug her father then, Mrs. O’Sullivan, before turning her eyes to scan the airport for him. Guilt and an unbearable pain squeezed Tommy’s heart when he saw the hurt that filled her eyes when she didn’t see him. For a brief five seconds, he thought of stepping out from behind the column, but her father’s presence set him straight.

Tommy watched Francesca sling her tote over her shoulder, and take the carry-on from Mrs. O’Sullivan. He saw her take one last look around before she handed her ticket to the customs officer and crossed into the boarding area.

Tears running down Tommy’s cheeks, he honed in on Francesca’s sad eyes staring out the plane’s window. For a moment, he felt their eyes meet and pressed a hand against the window glass. Tommy thought he saw Francesca doing the same against the plane window. If only for the briefest moment, Tommy thought they’d shared a connection minutes before the plane took off.

“I love you, Francesca, to infinity,” he murmured, flipping through the memories they’d made over the past few months.

LOOKING OUT THE AIRPLANE WINDOW, FRANCESCA sensed Tommy watching her. She thought their eyes met. As the plane started down the runway, Francesca was sure she saw Tommy rest his hand against the second-story window to connect with the one she pressed against the plane’s window.

THREE THOUSAND FEET IN THE AIR Francesca reached into her carry-on for a tissue to wipe the tears that swam into her eyes and found the envelope Mrs. O’Sullivan slipped in at the last minute. Recognizing Tommy’s handwriting, eager fingers ripped the envelope open.

I’m not a writer, nor am I a poet, and at this moment, I wish I were both because I want only the perfect words to describe how I feel about you. Seeing, as I’m neither, I’m going to write what I feel in my heart.

My mind can’t sleep tonight. It’s filled with you and the images of our lovemaking under a moonlit sky. I can hear the sound of the trickling water and nature’s symphony all around us. The first time we joined as one, the world around me filled full of oxygen.

No one has made me feel as complete or as loved as you have. You saw past the reckless boy I was and loved me for the man I am, and who I am now is because of you. I’d shut down after my mom’s death, and you showed me I could open my heart and be loved in return.

You taught me what true love means.

You, Francesca, are the best of me. You’ve claimed a place in my heart, and I will carry you with me forever.

As I write this letter, I’m looking out my bedroom window to the sky, at the stars and the moon that fills it because I already miss you and feel a huge void in my heart. In them, I see your face, and I feel you all around me.

I love you so much, Francesca. I love you more than there are blades of grass on this earth, more than there are grains of sand on the beaches of the world. I always will.

I will carry your heart in mine with me for as long as I’m on this earth. I will see you in every star for all eternity. I hope you do too.

Crying silent tears, Francesca read Tommy’s letter over and over the entire eight-hour flight.

TOMMY WROTE AND MAILED HIS FIRST letter to Francesca the day of her departure and every week afterward. Two months later, he still hadn’t received a response, not a letter, not a call.