Chapter Two: The Letter That Waited for Time

The coffee steamed between her hands, but Olivia barely noticed. They were sitting on a small terrace with a view of the city. The Florentine sky was beginning to tint with orange and violet hues. Elías remained silent, respectful, as if he knew this moment didn't entirely belong to him.

Olivia held the letter for minutes, her fingers caressing the edges as if by doing so, she could touch Tom one more time. Then, with a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her soul, she opened it.

The paper was slightly yellowed, but Tom's handwriting still looked as vivid as ever.

My Olivia,

If you're reading this... then fate played its cards and Elías kept his promise. I know there's no way to prepare you for the moment when I'm no longer physically by your side. Believe me, if it were up to me, I would have searched for every way to stay just a little longer.

But just in case, I wrote this.

I want you to know that you were my home. My greatest joy. My inspiration. There was never a single day when I didn't think of you as my personal miracle.

I know you'll be fine, though at first, it'll hurt so much that breathing will feel like a battle. I know you'll laugh again. That you'll paint, write, hug, and cry. And in each of those things, I'll be with you.

Promise me one thing: when my absence hurts, seek beauty. In books, in flowers, in a song, in a cup of coffee shared with someone new. And when you look at yourself in the mirror, remember that you still carry my love tattooed in every corner of your existence.

I leave you my music, my words... and this piece of sky, which will now be all yours.

I love you beyond time.

Forever yours,
Tom

Olivia didn't cry when she finished reading. She closed her eyes, and for a moment, it was as if she could see him before her. With that serene smile, with that love that knows no end.

— Thank you — she whispered.

Elías, still silent, pulled a small case from his jacket. He placed it on the table without saying a word. Olivia opened it. It was a silver pendant with a small emerald in the center.

— He asked me to give this to you with the letter. He said... it would make you feel protected.

Olivia took it carefully, as if it could break.

— He knew today would be one of those days when I needed it most — she said, with a fragile but real smile.

And Elías, looking at the horizon, replied:

— He always knew more than he let on.

They walked without speaking for a long while. The streets of Florence were quiet that afternoon, and every corner seemed to whisper ancient stories. Olivia wore the pendant, occasionally touching it as if it were a bridge between two worlds.

Elías walked beside her with a calm step, not trying to fill the silence. He knew that this space didn't ask for words, only presence.

They passed by the Piazza della Signoria, where art lived in every corner. Olivia stopped in front of a sculpture that Tom had loved. She smiled gently.

— This is where he told me he'd someday write a book about love and loss — she murmured — He asked if it was possible for two such opposing things to live in the same story.

— And what did you answer him?

— That he was that story.

Elías smiled at her, lowering his gaze with respect.

They continued walking until they reached the gallery. Luciana greeted them with a warm hug. Matteo was drawing in his usual corner. Olivia knelt beside him and gently stroked his hair.

— What are you drawing?

— A star, for Tom. Because even though I didn't know him as well as you did, I know he's watching us from up there.

Olivia felt her heart tighten, but this time, it didn't hurt as much. It was a sweet tightness, like the feeling of a loving farewell.

Later, back in her apartment, Olivia lit a candle and opened her journal. The pen trembled a little in her fingers, but the words came without effort.

Dear Tom,

Today I received your letter. Your last letter.

Elías kept his promise. He handed it to me with his heart in his hands, and I read it with my soul shattered, but also with my heart full of you.

Your words... I don't know how you do it, but you still know exactly what to say to lift me up. I walked through Florence with him, passed by our spots, remembered our laughter, our promises. Matteo is still drawing for you. Luciana hugged me as if she knew everything I couldn't say out loud.

And now, as I write, I realize that even though you're not here, you continue teaching me how to live. To live with pain, yes, but also with love.

I miss you every day, but thanks to you... I'm starting to breathe without guilt.

I love you.

Forever yours,
Olivia