’Til Death Do Us part

Dearest Victoria,

I have found you to be occupying my thoughts of late, as you often have. Though now, on the cusp of achieving what we’ve always wanted, I have found myself lost to bittersweet reverie of a time where we had care for naught but each other and the paths we walked through this world.

Do you remember, per chance, the summer we spent on the coast, in our little shack beside the sea? Though modest in appearance, it was a true bulwark against the worries we had. A place to shed them for a time, as the salted air and cool breeze brought much needed comfort as we were locked in our sweet embrace.

I think often of your smile lit by the sun, as if you yourself were kin to the bejeweled waters we swam within. An angel borne not of heaven, but of the seas.

I know we have not spoken in quite some time, and no words in this world can express my guilt at such an injustice. Though, dare I say, the time has been well spent in giving us what we could never have before.

I write this letter, not to fill you with dreadful longing for a bygone past, but to tell you to hope for the future. The final experiment is tonight. By the time I am finished, our child will live. I hope you will not hold it against me for this, but I have decided to name him Victor. After you, my love. A fitting name, as I am sure that when you meet him he will already be the victor of your heart.

I hope the flowers I had sent have brought some color to what would otherwise be quite dreary surroundings. Allow me to apologize once more for not delivering them in person. But if my endeavors are successful this night, then I shall have you back soon.

Yours for eternity, Henry.