Nate

Moonlight sparked off the Seine River and Nate drank in the smell of lavender drifting across the water. Paris even smelled like Camille. He’d never been anywhere else that he felt her so deeply. It made him smile, because maybe she was already here—lost among the glittering light and delicate beauty.

Nate was enraptured with Paris. And he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Camille would’ve loved it there. The city of light captured so much of her essence—its pale fragrance, gentle music and vibrant art. Each time Nate walked down a new street, he saw Camille. She was in the pattern of a bright dress. The hue of a flower garden. The soft laugh of young lovers.

Being in Paris without her was breaking Nate apart, but at the same time he felt a renewed strength. Like maybe he was doing something for Camille by coming here. He’d started small, carrying out tasks he’d copied from her Hello Wall. And with each task, he fit a piece of himself back where it belonged. It was a long road, and there were still things he couldn’t bring himself to do. College was one.

He’d tried to attend Tulane in the fall, but his heart wasn’t in it. In fact it wasn’t in New Orleans. It was lost somewhere with Camille. Perhaps it had stopped beating when hers did. It was one of the things Nate found comfort in. Camille had died of a heart attack. She had another coronary spasm in her sleep.

The doctors said she hadn’t felt a thing. Of course Nate had to look it up for himself. But strangely, he took comfort it what he found. The symptoms of Camille’s type of heart failure was often described by patients as a tightness of the chest, where the heart seems to swell too large.

Nate knew he was romanticizing it, but those were the same words he would use to describe what it felt like to be in love. When he thought back to the moments he was with Camille, he remembered distinctly thinking his heart was too big for his chest. Cami had always made him feel that way, filling him with her light and love that she’d chosen to share with him.

He felt it even now, as he sat alone at a café table with a stunning view of the Eiffel Tower. It was lit up, twinkling in the night sky, its glow blinding even the stars. Nate pulled the large envelope from his pocket. Camille’s parents had given it to him after her funeral, but he hadn’t the strength to open it until now.

Now seemed as good a time as any. Nate had put it off long enough. He’d dropped out of Tulane for the semester after his parents convinced the school to let him defer for a year. And Nate had spent that year living. It was impossible and wonderful all at once. Just like Camille had been. And that seemed to make his adventures that much more fitting.

There were days when he wanted to give up and cry, and sometimes he did. But then he would think of Camille and her quiet strength. And how everyday, she put one foot in front of the other. And that made him fight. It made him live. He owed that to her.

So Nate had spent that last six months living, for Camille. Seeing all the places he knew she would’ve wanted to see. Doing all the things she would’ve wanted to do. He was living for both of them, and somehow, it was making things easier.

Every time he felt weak or sad, he pictured her face. And in every memory, she wore a smile that touched his heart. How could he be sad when he’d had the privilege of knowing her? How could he be weak when she had been strong?

At some point, Nate turned his sadness into fire. Letting the sorrow take hold would’ve been a disservice to Camille. She had brought him so much joy and life. She was too bright to last, and perhaps that’s what had drawn him to her in the first place.

Camille had it all wrong. She’d always said Nate was her sunshine. But Camille had been Nate’s. Her light filled the unquenchable void that Tyler left. And though she was gone, her light would remain—left behind to inspire Nate, and everyone else whose life she’d touched.

Nate took a deep breath and finally opened the large envelope Camille had addressed to him. Inside were four smaller gray envelopes. Each had a handwritten note on the outside, penned in Camille’s looping handwriting. They read:

Nate gently opened the first envelope with shaking hands. His eyes misted as he read her words.

She’d written out the lyrics to ‘As Time Goes By’—their song. And beneath it, she’d written him a note.

The shimmering lights of the Eiffel Towel blurred in the distance as Nate’s tears spattered the letter. He was trembling as her read her words over and over. He needed more. He tore into the letters titled when you are happy and when you are sad. Because Nate had never felt both so equally in all his life. Camille’s words breathed life into him. And for a moment, it was like she was there beside him and the happiness overwhelmed him. But it faded quickly, ripping the remains of his heart out along with it.

His eyes poured over the letters. They both said the same thing.

He tore into the last letter. The one that read Open when you need to hold my hand. Inside was a pattern she’d traced around her hand. In the palm she’d written a note.

Nate sat alone for a long while. He read and reread the letters until every word had cemented itself in his heart. He felt a weight lift as he tucked the letters back into his breast pocket, above his heart. He had one thing left to do. He picked up Camille’s Polaroid camera and took a photo of the Eiffel Tower. He watched the shimmering image of light come to life on the film. When it shone back at him in all its glory, he wrote two words on it before tucking it into his pocket.

Hello Paris

Nate stayed for a while longer, holding onto the peace of this moment. He’d saved Paris for last. It was the final item on the Hello Wall he and Cami had created together. He thought he’d feel sadness, like he’d lost his connection to her. Yet, it was the opposite. Nate felt the static energy of life flowing around him. He finally realized by coming to Paris he was letting go in a sense. But that was okay. Because sometimes, love meant letting go.

As Nate stood to leave, someone bumped into him. Her purse fell to the ground, spilling its contents onto the street. Nate scrambled to help collect the items, but his breath caught as his fingers met a pink and white Hello Kitty PEZ dispenser. He picked it up, half expecting to see Camille standing there grinning at him. Instead, a petite French girl greeted him with a smile.

“Merci, merci!” She exclaimed thanking Nate for his help. She righted her purse and extended her hand. “Bonjour. I’m Zoë.”

Nate’s chest swelled, and slowly he reached for her hand. “Hello.”