Tyler sat back, finally taking his eyes off her.
He leaned back and shut his eyes.
“So you never got my letters,” he murmured. It wasn’t a question. “Not even one,” he breathed. Also, not a question.
“Tyler,” Emily called out, placing a hand on his arm, leaning toward him as he reclined at her side. They were seated on soft garden lounge chairs, side by side, a short table between them, such that both of them faced the same direction when seated upright.
Tyler did not move.
Emily’s hand remained.
“What do you mean? What letters?” she urged gently.
Tyler replied, but did not move, nor open his eyes.
Emily was beginning to regret her comment about his staring.
“I wrote to you, when I got back to school. I didn’t leave immediately, like I had planned. I was…delayed. I lost a year. I
