My dearest Ines,
I've already written you a letter for your birthday, but there was so much more I wanted to say - needed to say. I think about you everyday, but today, more so. I wonder if you're happy, I wonder if you're taking care of yourself.
I wonder if he's taking care of you. And on your seventeenth birthday, I wonder how he gets to surprise you in the morning. How he gets to see you all dressed up in the evening. How he gets to witness your smile first hand as you open cards and presents from loved ones.
I hope he knows just how lucky he is to get to see all of that...I hope he treasures it, and nourishes it for the privilege it is.
I also lied again in my other letter...the reason I blew all my money wasn't because I'd spent it on products for me and George. It was because I bought you a necklace for your birthday. I knew I wouldn't be able to give it to you. I know that I can't give it to you, most likely ever.
But when I saw it in the window of the shop, I knew it was yours. I didn't want it to be anyone else's. In my mind, it belonged to you. It wouldn't be right on someone else's neck.
So what if I never give it to you? To me, it's yours, and it's good enough for me...
It's beautiful, I know you'd love it...it's a deep blue, with twisted shards of grey. It looks like something a Ravenclaw would wear to a ball, but it would suit you so much...especially with the way your curly hair bounces off of your shoulders - I just think it would complement you so well.
Happy birthday, Ines. Happy seventeenth birthday, my love. I adore you, now, and forever and always.
Thank you for being my sun, even if you don't think about me. I hope you're well,
Love,
Your Fred x
