I hadn’t gotten anything in the mail other than bills and junk since I’d had a Peruvian pen pal in the fifth grade. So, when the two most important letters I’d probably ever get in my entire life arrived in the same month, I considered looking up the Vatican’s official rules about declaring something a miracle. Because this had to be close.

Since I’d already told all my friends about my acceptance letter to law school this fall, only one of the over-read letters was shoved into the absolute bottom of my bag when I rang the doorbell.

Emilia and Rob’s new house was the kind of place that people from the other side of the world come to San Francisco to see. The blue and white Victorian had bay windows, brick stairs, and ribbon-like detailing around each window and the roof.

Emilia looked flushed but happy when she answered the door. “Thank God you’re here. I spent the last three days unpacking and cleaning to get ready for this damn party. Now, my body hurts so badly I think I should start saying my final goodbyes.”

“You can’t die! You just signed a thirty-year loan on this sucker. Just be glad someone was smart enough to come up with the idea of housewarming gifts.”

“As always, you’re right. I give thanks for that and for my wine rack, which has never been so beautifully filled as it is right now.” She gave me a quick hug and led me inside. “But please tell me you didn’t bring Chardonnay. I swear, every single one of Rob’s friends brought us a bottle, and I can’t stand the stuff.”

“Good thing your friends know that about you.” When I took out the bottle of pinot noir I’d brought, I pushed all my other crap deeper into my bag to make sure the envelope didn’t fall out. “Although, truth be told, I’m fairly sure there are only about ten bottles of Chardonnay in existence, and since no one actually likes it, they just keep getting shuffled from housewarming party to housewarming party.”

I’d been to the house only a couple days ago to help Emilia get settled, so the downstairs tour she gave me was really just an excuse to step away from playing hostess to Rob’s work friends. After I said hello to Andi and Hayden, I gave Rob an especially tight squeeze with his hello hug. His firm’s recommendation, along with whatever strings he’d had to pull, were the reasons I’d gotten into Berkeley’s law school with such short notice.

The bright silver lining of everything that had gone wrong three months ago was that Emilia, Andi, and I were closer than ever. After I started virtual assisting again, I finally had enough money to afford my own teensy, tiny apartment and the time to meet my friends regularly. And even though Carissa had gone back to Texas right after graduation, we talked on the phone about once a week. She’d been almost as excited as I was when I told her about Berkeley Law.

“Enough people-ing. I’m dying to share my wisdom about whatever you need help with.” Emilia was obviously as anxious as I was to discuss what I’d texted her and Andi about earlier—something important I needed their advice for.

She grabbed Andi before we went upstairs and into her home office. “You get the hot seat.” She spun the leather chair away from the view out the window to face the chaise lounge that she and Andi sat down on.

“Go!” she said, looking at me expectantly.

“I got this today.” I put the padded manila envelope onto the coffee table between us after I’d pulled out the letter-sized envelope that was causing me so much confusion.

“You really know how to build up anticipation,” Andi said. “Should we try to guess what it says?”

I shook my head and held it out to her. “Read it.”

Emilia shook her head. “You read it to us. It’s more exciting that way.”

“I hate you both,” I lied, straightening the letter out and setting it and the check that had come with it on the table. “It’s from Declan.”

I knew the second they saw how much money the check was written out for because Emilia cursed and Andi snatched the letter off the table.

I picked up the check to make sure I’d read it right as Andi started reading aloud.

---

Sara,

This is your cut of the royalties I made from your song. If you’re thinking to yourself that you don’t deserve the money, you’re wrong. The fact is that being with you was the only reason I could write it, and if you read any of the comments or mentions online, you’d know how true that is. A lot of people have called For You this year’s sappiest love song or something. So, if I’d never met you, had never fallen in love with you, that song wouldn’t exist, and I wouldn’t have made any money from it.

Since I didn’t think you’d take it, I put the money to the side until I knew what to do with it. I swear I haven’t been stalking you. But guess who just happened to be at the band’s show in Houston a couple of weeks ago. Yep, Carissa. It was good and bad to see her again. Bad, because she was a big reminder of something I can’t go a day without remembering. And good because, as soon as she told me you’d been accepted to law school, I knew where the money needed to go.

The deal I made with Doug ended last week, so no more band or shows or unpleasant attention. I’m happy being known as the guy who used to be the lead singer of Self Defense. I’m going to love being invisible.

So, I don’t want credit for it, and I’d prefer if no one knew I was involved. Your school doesn’t share financial information with the public, but they refused to keep it a secret from you. Since I know how grumpy you’d be if you thought I was paying your tuition, and I wasn’t sure you’d accept the royalty money to begin with, I figured it would be best if you heard the explanation directly from me.

Maybe you noticed that the check is written out to the university and not you. From what I’ve been told, that means it doesn’t actually belong to you, and you’re not allowed to rip it up. Other checks will be coming. They might not be for as much, but they should be enough to cover your tuition, books, and most of your living expenses for a while. Helping you reach for your dream is the least I can do to repay you for helping me reach for mine.

Believe what you want, but if we’d never met, I wouldn’t be here right now, doing what I love and not doing what I don’t. Trevor might not be three months sober, and Kitty would still be worried about her dad. Actually, I think she is still worried about me. Because as good as things are going for me right now, something is still missing. Something about your size and shape.

God, I miss you, babe. I miss you. And I can’t imagine a day when it will ever stop. That’s probably a shitty thing to say after all this time, but I don’t care. It’s not about making you feel bad. I just want you to know that somewhere out there is a man whose entire life changed for the better because of you. He found out what love feels like, and he finally understands that he can love someone who isn’t there anymore. And know that he always will.

Whatever your future brings, I hope it makes you happy. I hope whoever you’re with now, or will be in the future, can see what’s in front of him. I hope he sees as much beauty in you as I do.

Take care of yourself, would you? Study hard or hardly study—whichever brings you joy. And who knows, maybe someday, I’ll get in the kind of trouble that only a great attorney can get me out of, so I’ll be able to see you again.

Always for you,

D.

---

“Wow,” both Andi and Emilia said at exactly the same time, Emilia drawing hers out a little longer. She always was the more dramatic of my two best friends.

“I’m going to need more than that, guys.” I’d come to them for advice, not to have the damn letter punctuated with a sigh at the end of every sentence. “What should I do?”

They glanced at each other, turned back to me, and then answered at the same time again.

Andi replied with, “Use the check.” Emilia’s response was more complicated: “Track him down and propose before anyone else does.” I didn’t think she was joking.

“I want to change my answer. Do what she said.” Andi flicked her head toward Emilia. “And then use the check.”

“Definitely. Get the guy and use the check. In that order.” Emilia held out her hand. “Can I see it again? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many zeros on anything before.”

“Please, take it.” I handed it over gladly. The less time I spent staring at it, the better. “It’s too much temptation to hold on to when I’m trying to make a decision based on logic.”

“Wait a sec,” Andi said seriously. “We’re talking about enough money to let you finish law school with no student debt. Money you earned—” She shut me up with a look. “Regardless of whether you think you earned it or not, Declan was pretty clear on that front. And if you can’t take his word for it, remember that people hire consultants, life coaches, and inspirational gurus all the time. You were his muse, and he thinks your help was worth compensating. So, please, please tell me you’re not stupid enough to refuse the money.”

Emilia was still staring at the check, nodding along with every word Andi said.

“Fine. I’m not that stupid. But you guys are missing one large detail about it.” I can’t believe Emilia hadn’t spotted it yet, considering how close her face was. “One large detail that’s missing from the check, actually.”

“Oh shit.” Emilia popped her head up and stared wide-eyed at me. “He didn’t sign it!”

Neither of them saw my shoulders slump because they were too busy triple-checking the signature line.

“Now you see the reason”—another reason—“I don’t know what to do.”

Andi, ever the realist, shocked me by saying, “He left it blank on purpose. Anyone who spends however long it took to write such an amazing letter pays attention to every detail. I bet he obsessed over that check more than you are.”

“Why wouldn’t he have signed it, then?”

“Because he’s still in love with you, dumbass. He knows the school won’t take it without a signature. So, if you took it in, what would they tell you to do?”

“Um…get it signed?”

“Right!” Emilia took over from there. “They’d tell you to go back to the person who wrote it and get him to sign it.” She looked at me for a minute and then smiled. “Oh man, you really are a dumbass. Don’t you get it? Declan set it up so you’d have to see each other again.”

Andi nodded. “One more chance to see you, whether you end up taking the check or not.”

“I could send it back the same way he sent it to me.”

“By mail? Would you really? That’s like breaking up with someone by text. Okay, so, if you sent it back in the mail, at least he’d know that you’re a wussy jerk and that he’s better off without you.”

Emilia pulled out the other gift he’d sent along with the check.

“Don’t read that.” I snatched it back from her before she could see what Declan had written on it.

“What is it?”

“It’s a slate—a writing board that can get wet. For when you think of something while you’re in the shower and want to write it down. I used his once, but he said I had to get my own. So, I joked about it being magic—that everything you write on it comes true.”

“Wow,” Andi said concerned. “Since when did you become so Disney Princess?”

I grimaced. “Believe me, no Disney Princess would’ve written what I did.”

“That’s because Disney refuses to consistently write the kind of princess little girls need as role models.”

“No,” I said slowly. “What I wrote really isn’t the kind of thing little girls should be exposed to.”

Both of them let out a long, “Oooooh.”

“Now we get it,” Emilia said. “Right, Andi?”

Andi nodded. “So, did whatever you wrote on his happen?”

“Yep. Every single, blissfully sinful word.”

She folded up the letter and slid it across the table to me. “I really like this guy.”

Emilia slid the check over. “Me, too.”

“Me, too,” I said softly.

Emilia’s eyes widened when she turned over the envelope she was still holding. “He said his tour ended last week, right?”

“Yeah. His old manager doesn’t know about Declan’s other persona, and there was nothing about it in their contract, so Declan gets all the money from online clicks and sales.”

“Declan and you,” Andi corrected.

“Actually, that’s not why I was asking.” Emilia set the envelope on the table with the address label facing up. “I meant that if his tour ended last week, maybe you should look at the return address.”

As soon as I did, I wanted to cry. It was local. A small town just outside the city in the East Bay. I could be there in thirty minutes. I hadn’t really thought about where he’d go after his tour ended. I figured that since he could write music anywhere, he’d go anywhere he wanted. I guess he wanted to be here.

“Sara,” Emilia said. “If you don’t go see him, I’m going to disown you.”

Once Andi agreed, a weight came off my chest. It had never been a choice to begin with—they’d known that before I did.

“I guess I have to go see him, then,” I said finally. “I can’t do something that would get me disowned from the two best advice givers ever.”

“I told you she was smart, Andi.” Emilia laughed. “As long as you go tomorrow. Putting it off any longer would make us very unhappy. And you wouldn’t like us when we’re unhappy.”

“Hang on a sec.” Andi looked confused. “Let me get this straight. Along with a big, fat check and a totally sweet letter, Declan sent you a little magical whiteboard that makes everything you write on it come true.” Andi pointed to the slate I was currently clutching to my belly. “And you’re not going to show it to us? Not even if we beg.”

“Nope.” I slipped it back into the envelope, making sure my friends couldn’t see what he’d written.

Because while my wish had been for a gorgeous, sexy-as-fuck man to take me to bed and torture me with his tongue, Declan’s was just a single word: