Ever since the day Hunter Parslowe decided to confess his feelings for Blake Gao, he had prepared himself to weave stories with him. Together, they were set to create a past, a present, and a future. Over the years, they’ve had a good sense of where they’ve been, where they currently stand, and where they’re heading to. And within those stories they’ve created, both he and Blake had good sense of who they were and how they felt for each other.

But when the one-sided breakup occurred, it traumatically interrupted the story for the other person. And so, despite the obvious signs of a fallout, Hunter’s sudden departure was unexpected for Blake. And failing to receive proper closure left him deeply wounded and traumatized.

As Hunter fixed his gaze on the now-faded green wooden box, he realized that breaking things off with Blake, especially when he believed the other would not share the same sentiment, was never going to be easy. And knowing well that he’d be hurting his partner in the worst possible way, it was difficult to give honest reasons for his intention to break up. He just could not bring himself to tell the truth. Otherwise, it would have completely shattered Blake.

He was prepared to feel guilty for ending such a beautiful relationship. What he did not expect is that things did not turn out the way he had originally planned. He allowed Blake to suffer for so long. But the time has come to give him the closure he so badly needs.

“So I’m starting to look like fish bait, huh?” he mused, talking to no one in particular. But Lucien was there with him, sitting by the dining table, watching him in silence. They had just finished a long discussion about what Pyewacket had seen back in Coral Springs.

“From now on, it’s best that you stay as close to me and Murphy as possible,” Lucien advised. “That way we can protect you.”

“How can you possibly do that? You’re just… human.”

Lucien ignored his remark and instead asked, “You’ve been seeing them lurking around more often than usual, haven’t you? Aren’t you the least bit afraid?”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “Of course, I am. Heck, I’ve been afraid for almost nine years! But we wouldn’t be here talking about this if only Murphy hadn’t pretended I’m non-existent, would we?”

Lucien scoffed. “Stop putting the blame on him. Well, he’s partly to blame but,” he shook his head and shot Hunter a stiff look, “you really can’t blame him for not trying to pry into other people’s business – especially when they’re no longer ‘people’.”

Hunter jerked his head, narrowing his eyes that were sharply aimed at Lucien.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lucien said with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “Did I offend you?”  

Hunter tried to keep a straight face, but he couldn’t. “Listen. I owe you guys big time for even considering helping me out. And I’m sorry for getting you into this mess. But right now, I really need all the help I could get to be able to…” For a moment, he was hesitant to say the next words. “… To cross over. Thinking about it now, I guess I couldn’t put all the burden on Blake. He hates my guts now, that’s for sure. But I guess what’s really been keeping me here is my own guilt. I just… I just couldn’t bring myself to leave this world without being able to tell him what really happened to me.”

“Woah… wait…” Lucien’s mouth hung open for a moment as he listened to Hunter’s musing. 

“Back then, I thought it was better to keep him in the dark about it. But then, it happened.” Blake put his head in his hands. The more he tried to talk about it, the worse he felt.

Lucien could sense that he was troubled. A part of him did not want to delve deeper into the matter but somehow, he felt like he needed to press him further. He was certain that the words he would utter next could give him a clue to the very nature of his death.

But then, Murphy’s voice kept replaying in his head: “Never ask a lost soul how they died. The dead can’t reveal the cause of their death. It will be on us.”

Lucien doesn’t have the gift of patience and this frustrated him to no end.

Hunter’s defenses were stirred, and Lucien felt guilty for riling him up at such an inopportune time. He realized that had he provoked him further, the conversation could go awry.

In a typical Lucien Salverson way of keeping charge of a situation, he tried to change the subject, diverting their conversation to something lighter.

“Tell me something about you and Blake, then.”

“Oh?” Hunter’s gloomy expression slowly lit up. “What about us? You found out a lot of things about us earlier. Don’t you want me to tell you about your boyfriend instead?”

Lucien frowned. “What’s Murphy got to do with this?” And then he realized he might have gone about it the wrong way, so he quickly added, “And he’s not my boyfriend. Can you stop changing the subject, please?”

“But uh, where’s your dog? Haven’t seen him around since after our trip.” Hunter asked as he looked around.

Oh, shit.

Lucien straightened up, trying not to look perturbed. “Oh, I dropped him at a friend’s place for a while. I still had some cleaning to do and I’ll be leaving extra-early tomorrow, so…”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “And your college buddy…?”

“In his room,” replied Lucien as he pointed his thumb over his shoulder.

Hunter laid on the couch, laughing. “He must be afraid to come out now, hearing you talking to yourself like this.”

“He must be sleeping by now,” Lucien said flippantly, and then cleared his throat. “Anyway, back to you. Tell me more about your relationship with Blake before this shitstorm took place between you guys. Clearly right now, his anger towards you has clouded his judgment. But I feel there’s something more to this than meets the eye.”

Hunter gazed sideways, absently running a finger up and down his chin. “I’m not sure if you’ll believe me. You seemed to be dead-set on labeling me as the ‘douchebag’.”

Lucien shrugged. “Change my mind, then.”

Hunter shifted on his back and stared at the ceiling. “Well… Between the two of us, Chen-hong’s more of a thinker. A realist. Meanwhile, I was the dreamer. While he was busy trying to finish med school and making ends meet, I… always had my head in the clouds, cooking up ways to make life easier for the both of us.”

“I like that you’re being honest about this,” Lucien remarked, “but dude, can’t you make yourself sound a little less of a douchebag?”

Lucien trailed off as the look Hunter gave him shot daggers. “Should I continue my story, or will you keep interrupting and criticizing me for my life choices? Otherwise, I’ll go to Murphy for this. I believe he’s a better listener than –”

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop. Go on.”

Hunter gave him a warning look before opening his mouth again. “Anyway, despite my capriciousness, Chen-hong would always try and understand me. He said so himself earlier – he never complained and just supported me all throughout.” He paused at this and shook his head in agreeable disbelief. “Man, I really am a douche.” He looked at Lucien, who was lighting a cigarette for himself. “Oh my god, there’s nothing likeable about me. How was Chen-hong even able to withstand me for so long?”

Lucien blew out a cloud of smoke and made a circling motion with his finger, indicating Hunter should continue talking.

Hunter sat up on the couch and stared at him. “Lucien, you should definitely ask him what he liked about me.”

Lucien netted his eyebrows. “Dude, I may not be an expert in that field, but did you even stop to think that maybe he loved you for, well, being you? If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to endure a decade-long – “

“We were together for fourteen years,” Hunter hastily corrected him.

“Okay, a fourteen-year-long relationship. Why the hell would I endure that long if I don’t feel a sense of security being with you? You’re there for him, and he’s there for you. Simple as that, dude.” He blew out another billow of smoke. “Or I could be wrong. Love isn’t exactly some theory that needs to be explained. If you love someone, then you’ll probably never be able to give a reason why you love them.”

Hunter gave him an amused look. “Wow, look at you, being all Dr. Love on me now,” he teased, which made Lucien blush with embarrassment.

“Shut your trap, I thought it’s common sense,” he mouthed as he tapped the ash from his cigarette into an ashtray. “Stop being all sappy on me now. Tell me more about Blake. What does he do for a living? Your – I mean their –“ His eyebrows furrowed as he tapped a finger against his forehead. “The house in Coral Springs seems to have been recently upscaled.”

Hunter smiled slowly. “Chen-hong’s an accomplished neurosurgeon now. All that hard work has finally paid off. Isn’t my baby the best?” And then, his expression softened. “Sam, on the other hand, is a chief nurse at a children’s hospital. She loves to be around children. When we were young, I was so sure she’d become a teacher. But hey, being a nurse perfectly suits her, too. She and Chen-hong are a perfect match. They even have a lovely daughter to boot. I couldn’t be happier.”

Hunter’s words were sincere, but Lucien’s heart squeezed within his chest as he listened to him. “Man, why are you doing this to yourself?” was the only thing he could say, as he took one long drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray. “You know, between the two of us, it’s completely okay to vent out your frustrations. I’m not one to like listening to other people’s problems but with you, I’ll make an exception. Take it as a one-time offer.”

Hunter gave a half-suppressed laugh. “What are you talking about? I’m fine. I meant what I said. My Chen-hong’s in a much better place now. And with much better company. I couldn’t ask for more.”

Lucien stared at him in silence as if seeing him for the first time. Both he and Blake have tried their best to pretend to be alright in front of others. But Blake’s aura betrayed him and if Hunter were to have one, he was sure it would have exposed him, too.

They are both still in love yet hurting at the same time. But how does one get to reveal a person’s true feelings when they don’t seem to be aware of it themselves?

Hunter turned to the wooden box on the table, and then to Lucien. “Would you mind opening it for me?”

Lucien walked over to the coffee table and, kneeling down, slid the box closer to him. “Mrs. Gao sort of gave us an idea what’s inside. Are you sure it’s okay for me to see them?”

Hunter chuckled as he knelt opposite Lucien and leaned his elbows on the table. “It’s not like I’m letting you read my diary. Trust me, you won’t find anything kinky in there,” he said teasingly.  

Lucien grimaced as he stared down at the box. It’s beautiful – perhaps even more when it was still new. Hunter and Blake must have carefully chosen it. Things like this had to be beautiful because its contents were once precious to them.

He carefully held each side of the lid and opened it slowly. The rusty hinges made a creaking sound, yet it opened with surprising ease.

Lucien saw the first of the contents. On top was a picture of a younger Blake and Hunter, tall and handsome, posing in some field setting. Hunter had on a black baseball hat and a white T-shirt with a large logo of some major baseball league. Blake was wearing a blue printed polo shirt, a camera in one hand. They had their arms around each other and looked wildly happy. Carefully, Lucien pulled it out and saw two other photos underneath it, taken in the same setting. The second photo they were smiling and looking at each other; the third they were kissing, coyly, lips barely touching. He flipped the third picture over and saw that the date it was taken was written on there, along with a little description written in a sloping black handwriting. It read: “07-02-2000 – Taken by Sam. A big win for the NY Yankees today. Also celebrated our third year together. Cheers to big wins.” Lucien took a deep breath as he carefully laid the photos down on the table.

Hunter looked pleased to notice that they were still in good condition. He closed his eyes as he remembered that day so very clearly.

With his fingers he touched his mouth. He could feel Blake’s lips on his. His warm, soft lips and his scorching embrace. His scent that he always loved. So fresh, so young and hopeful. He indulged in the moment, the years falling away from him. He was nineteen again and so madly in love.

His reverie was abruptly broken by the sound of rustling paper as Lucien reached once more into the box. There they were. A sheaf of envelopes in varying sizes and colors, tied neatly together with a thin twine. It appeared there were close to thirty letters – probably even more. On some of them Hunter recognized his own scribbled handwriting. Some had Blake’s – always so elaborate and elegant looking.

Lucien lifted his eyes to Hunter. “Love letters?”

Hunter nodded. “Call us tasteless, but… we have this little tradition for our anniversaries and birthdays. We exchanged love letters – gifts to one another at a time when we were young and too poor to bring ourselves to some fancy restaurant. Later on when we had money to spare, we’d go out on dates, buy a little something. But we continued to exchange letters, too. We kept all of them here, in this box. Once or twice a year, I read through each of them.”

Lucien tugged at the collar of his shirt, although it wasn’t too constricting. He could feel a lump forming in his throat as he listened to Hunter’s musings. The letters clearly weren’t intended for his eyes, so he set them aside. He turned to look inside the box once more and saw that there were more photos – mostly polaroid – some pins and badges, fridge magnets, magazine clippings about various tourist destinations in Taiwan, and an old English – Chinese dictionary.

“I remembered Blake mentioning you guys were planning a trip to Taiwan,” Lucien said as he went through with the magazine clippings one by one. “Looks like you guys had it carefully planned out.”

“Well, it was supposed to be a surprise. I didn’t want him to spend a single dime on this trip. I wanted to spoil him silly.” He paused, thinking whether to tell Lucien or not. In the end, he chose the former and said, “I’ve had this elaborate idea of proposing to Chen-hong in Taiwan. I’ve been planning it for many years. Wanted to make it really special. Even when things became complicated between us, I still wanted to bring him to Taiwan. I worked even harder for it. But… at that point, the idea of proposing marriage was… impossible.”

Lucien could tell that he was trying to hold back hints that would give him a sliver of idea on how things have really ended between him and Blake. He was only sure of one thing: That Hunter died before he could even try to clear things up with Blake.

Lucien reached inside the box once more. This time, his fingers reached for something metallic. It was small, round, and tied to something like a string. He pulled it out and produced a silver ring suspended on a brown waxed cord necklace. He looked closely at the ring and noticed an engraving inside the finger hole. It had Blake’s Chinese name on it, followed by the words ‘Written in the stars’.

He heard a long and deep sigh coming from Hunter, as he stared at the ring. This was the first time he failed to hide the look of pain on his face. “Of course… Of course, he won’t need it anymore. It’s useless.” He fidgeted with the ring on his left ring finger, slowly twisting it around. “I was the one who broke our promise, after all.”

Lucien put the ring down on the table. “Frankly, I think he’s a fool for throwing away something so precious, even if it’s because of past mistakes.”

“Come on, you make it sound so simple.”

“I don’t mean to. That’s the last thing it is.”

And then, they were down to the last object left in the box. Wordlessly, Lucien reached into it and produced a sealed, light-blue envelope.

“The last year we were together, on our anniversary, Blake didn’t leave me a letter. I guess he could no longer bring himself to tell me what he truly felt.” Hunter forced a laugh as he said this. “I mean, how could you even write a ‘love letter’ if you’re filled with nothing but hatred and disappointment? Right? I understood him perfectly.” And then, in a much softer tone, he continued, “But I didn’t forget. I wrote him something, but I couldn’t… it’s not… it’s not exactly a love letter this time.”

The envelope had something handwritten on the face of it. Holding it up, Lucien read the words, “To My Chen-hong: To be opened only after my death.”

His heart skipped a beat. It had been intentionally placed at the very bottom of the box below everything else. “Is… Is this what you want me to give to Mr. Gao?”

A shade of deep melancholy clouded Hunter’s face as he gazed at the letter. And then he nodded. “I ask that you give it to him once I’m gone.” He pressed his hands together as if praying, his fingertips against his lips. “I know there’s no place for me in his heart anymore. And with that, there’s no more place for me in this world. But I’m still hoping that Chen-hong hasn’t yet come to a point where nothing I say can ease the pain I’ve caused him. So I hope that, once he reads that letter, he would find it in his heart to forgive me.”

Lucien did not attempt to console him. Sometimes, there were reasons which made these things impossible, especially when one knows a person is beyond inconsolable. The damage had been done, and the only way forward is for both parties to move on.

“I’ll make sure to give this to Mr. Gao,” was the only thing he could promise him at this point. And it was more than enough to put a smile back on Hunter’s face.

They spent the next thirty minutes going through what Lucien now calls the “memory box”, as Hunter told stories behind some of the letters and memorabilia. He spoke fondly of Blake all throughout – a contrast to his former partner’s bittersweet tirade against him earlier that day.

Lucien did not know a person could be so devoted to someone their whole life. But this only made the mystery even more baffling.

If you love him so much, why did you leave him?

After their conversation, Lucien sat by the window, while Hunter remained seated on the floor by the coffee table, staring at the green box, almost as if speaking to it with his eyes. Lucien had much to ask, but he knew Hunter could not readily give him the answers. They spent the rest of the night in silence.

In the coming days, he and Murphy are set to find missing pieces to a puzzle that is the enigma of Hunter Parslowe’s death.