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What she was meant to write in the notebooks she was never entirely sure, but there they were, blank and waiting for her when she was ready to use them.
“I love you madly,” she said
Hazel loved the Soho coffee shops, listening in on conversations while sipping coffee, a notebook open containing nothing but lists and to-dos
“Do I need to get the rosary beads?”
“But I wanted you to know that you will forever be my best friend because you’re the one who told me about Frideswide. Sometimes we can’t wait around for someone to save us.”
It looked like a pearl in a shell. The wing of a dove. The edges of the sky before rain. The pure white of a summer cloud.”
They could have, she realized, been carrying it together all this time.
She rested her head on his shoulder, and it fit as if made for her. He felt like home.
“Like when I leave you, and everything is different; or when I’m with you, and it feels like the world and everything in it is alive and for me?”
“You are my fairy tale. You always have been,” he said.
The truth was all that had been required in the end.
