This is a love letter

To: percyw2007@gmail.com

(no subject)

My Dear Percy,

My darling, I did something bad. Really bad.

If I had to guess, you’re probably pacing the kitchen reading this email off your phone while your coffee cools on the counter. This is probably the first time in a little while that you’ve made your coffee yourself. I bet you overloaded it with sugar too. You never believe me when I say one spoon is enough, and yet you wonder how I make your coffee better than you do. I wish I could have made it for you this morning like always. It’s the least I could have done. But I had to leave early. I couldn’t face you after what I’d done.

You may be wondering why you woke up to an empty bed this morning. Why when you got to the kitchen realizing I wasn’t there, you called out my name and I didn’t answer. Why I haven’t responded to your many calls or texts.

I suppose I can start by saying that I’ve gone to the hospital to see her. Gracie. I know it’s not like me to go without you, but I just had to. She’s looking so much worse since the last time we were here, Percy. Her skin is greyer, her eye bags darker, her limbs leaner. Every time I see her hooked up to those machines, tubes coming in and out of her barely keeping her alive, it reminds me that I’m not doing enough to find a cure. Right now you’re probably thinking that that’s bullshit because of how often I’m in the lab. But when I’m not in the lab, I’m thinking about the next time I will be. You’ve seen me, baby, I don’t sleep. I can’t sleep knowing we’re so close to finding a cure.

Do you remember when we were only a couple of months into dating? And we’d already started talking about marriage? The timing felt simultaneously too fast and just right. Love can be so contradictory at times. Anyways, I told you that even if I married you, my our daughter, well my daughter at the time, would still be my number one priority. That I would choose her every time. A part of me was preparing for you to leave, but you didn’t. Not only did you accept it, but you helped me raise Gracie as though she were yours. I’ll always remember that. It made me love you even more, which I didn’t think was possible.

I don’t know if you recall, but a couple of years ago when Gracie was first diagnosed, I had found a research facility and hospital in Vancouver that was making a lot of progress with finding a cure. I wanted so badly to go, but my job (and yours) was in Toronto, so we stayed. But, do you remember Bill from work? He knows someone at the Vancouver facility and told me I’d have a place there if I wanted. So I took it.

I’m writing to you from a hotel in Vancouver. And this morning, I didn’t just visit Gracie. I took her with me.

I’m starting to cry as I type this because I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling right now. Believe me when I say that this was a last minute plan. I didn’t know what else to do. Gracie will get better here, I know she will. I need our daughter to get better, Percy.

Knowing you, you’re probably planning to book the next available flight to Vancouver. That’s one thing I love about you, Percy. I do something stupid and reckless, and you stay by me through it all, follow me into the fire. Someone insecure, like Gracie’s birth father, would have assumed I’d abandoned my marriage, but you’ve never doubted my love for you. And rightfully so. I’ll love you till the end, Percy. But there’s no need for you to book any flights.

I’ve been keeping something from you. I hate lying to you, but it was for a good reason, I promise. Three months ago, we developed a drug that was both disease-curing and safe. We were given the go-ahead to test it on rats. We fed them the drug every day for a week and waited. 30 days later they were not only just as healthy, but cured. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. We’d never seen such remarkable results so quickly. So, I requested that we speed up the trial process, test our drug on humans, but my boss wouldn’t allow it. And yes, I know clinical trials usually take years, a decade even, before proceeding to human trials. But Gracie may not have years, let alone ten. So I took matters into my own hands.

I needed a subject that I could monitor and obtain samples from daily without issue. Someone I was around often enough to get the results we needed.

So one morning, while you were still in bed, I was pouring your coffee and the thought came to me. You have to understand that at the time, it seemed like the most perfect idea. The rats had proven the drug safe, so I was sure you’d be okay. And I could add it to your coffee for a week without you knowing. I would have told you, but I didn’t want placebo to ruin any results. And I knew in my heart that if I had told you, you’d be on board. For Gracie. Our girl.

But a month ago, the unexpected happened. All of the rats became incredibly sick. Without a single warning. We’d tested their vitals constantly, blood samples daily, and yet zero signs pointed to this. We spent hours and hours trying to figure out what caused it, how to cure them. To this day, we’re still unsure. But immediately the next day, they died. Every last one.

I didn’t know how to tell you. Every day for the last month I’ve been sick to my stomach trying to find a way to tell you what I did and I couldn’t. I put every ounce of time I had into my work, not only to save our girl, but because I couldn’t bear to face you knowing what I knew. And as time went on, I began to ask myself if you’d even want to know. Should I burden you with the knowledge of your imminent death or should I let you live out the rest of your days in peace? We both know what decision I made, but I don’t think I’ll ever truly know if it was the right one. And when I came home from work last night to you coughing in bed with a cold rag on your head, I knew it was too late and that I had to leave.

I love you more than you’ll ever know. But, Percy, you knew from the start that if I had to choose between you or Gracie, I’d save my daughter. Although I don’t regret the progress we’ve made towards finding her a cure, I didn’t mean for this to happen, my darling. I didn’t realize what I’d done until it was too late. I’m stupid, reckless, and cowardly. You knew all of that, and married me anyway. What is love, if not that?

I’m sending you this email because I wasn’t brave enough to face you and tell you the hard truth. I was afraid of the possibility that you may not have wanted to follow me into this fire. But you once told me you’d do anything for Gracie. And so would I. You’d understand why I made the decisions I made. You’d understand that despite it all, my love for you is unwavering. Till death do us part.

This is a love letter.

This is proof that nothing, not even death, can tear us apart.

This is also my confession, if living the rest of my days behind bars is what I deserve.

But if true justice exists, I will find a cure before my time to pay penance arrives. And by then, my Gracie will be cured. Your death won’t be in vain, I promise.

I’ll miss you, my darling.

Sincerely,

Your loving wife