Love In The Shadows | Fred Weasley x OC

Chapter 95

Chapter 95: The Letters

Fred was still lost in thought as he walked into the shop's back office, his eyes scanning the usual chaos of paperwork and supplies. It was a place he often retreated to when the weight of everything became too much. His brothers knew how to handle it all, how to keep things light, but Fred... Fred was still trying to put the pieces together.

As he dropped his bag onto the desk, his eyes caught sight of something that made his heart lurch: a pile of letters, stacked high and scattered across the desk. They were tucked haphazardly beneath a few invoices, the edges of the paper frayed with time. The names on the envelopes caught his attention. They were addressed to George.

Fred frowned, his brow furrowing. "George?" he muttered to himself. He hadn't even noticed these letters before. They were out of place, shoved to the side and almost forgotten. Curious, he reached down to grab them, his fingers grazing the top envelope.

He hesitated. It felt like an invasion, reading someone else's mail, but George wouldn't have left them here unless he had no use for them. After all, George had mentioned something about being too busy to look through the mail recently.

Fred flipped the first envelope open, the paper thick and smooth beneath his fingertips. It was a personal letter, the kind George would have kept to himself—except, it wasn't addressed to George.

The handwriting was familiar. Fred didn't recognize the words at first, but there was something in the fluid way the pen curved, the pressure in the strokes that felt achingly familiar.

The letter started simply.

"Dear Fred,"

Fred's breath caught in his throat. His heart skipped a beat as he slowly pulled the letter from its envelope and began to read.

Dear Fred,

I don't know where to begin. Maybe it's best to start by saying that I don't want to make the same mistakes again, and I don't want to leave anything unsaid. I've always known, deep down, that you were the one I wanted. But it was never that simple, was it?

I know this must sound confusing, and maybe even selfish, but I want you to know that I never stopped thinking about you. Every moment without you felt like a reminder of everything I had lost, and yet, I kept telling myself that I couldn't turn back. That I couldn't undo everything that had been done. But I want you to know, more than anything, that I regret nothing about you, Fred. Nothing at all.

Fred blinked back the tears that had welled in his eyes. He read the words again, every sentence more painful than the last. The letter continued.

I'm sorry I couldn't be the person you needed. I never meant to hurt you, but I think somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that you would be better off without me. I told myself that someone else would love you better than I ever could, and maybe that's true. But I had to let you go for your own sake. I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought it was the only way I could protect you. But every day without you has been harder than the last, and now, I'm not sure I can bear it anymore.

Fred's throat tightened, the words blurring in front of him. He sat there, frozen, as though time itself had stopped. He carefully placed the letter down, as though afraid to move too quickly.

The next letter was no better. His hands shook slightly as he unfolded it, the weight of the words feeling heavier with every letter he read. The lines were all so familiar. The same voice, the same soul laid bare on the paper.

Each letter was written in the same hand, the same delicate strokes that Fred knew so well. But it was the content, the rawness of the emotions conveyed that left him breathless. Adhara had written all of these letters.

Fred had always known that Adhara had been torn by her family, that her loyalty to them had always been a constant struggle. But reading her words, he could feel the guilt and sorrow that had carried her. The regrets that had never reached him, not until now.

I still think about the first time we met. You made me laugh in a way no one else could. I remember thinking that I could spend the rest of my life with you, and that was the happiest thought I'd ever had. But I was scared, Fred. I was scared of what you might think of me when you knew who I really was.

I don't think I've ever been more honest with myself than I am right now. I've made so many mistakes, but I think the biggest one was leaving you. Not fighting for you.

Fred's breath caught, and he had to pause, feeling a lump form in his throat. He had thought, all this time, that Adhara was simply moving on—that she was okay without him. That she had chosen someone else for good. But these letters told a different story.

Then, Fred's gaze landed on the last letter, tucked at the very bottom of the pile. He flipped it open, and as soon as his eyes landed on the first words, something in him clicked.

Dear Fred,

I don't know why I'm telling you all of this now. Maybe it's because I'm about to do something that I can't take back, and I want to be sure that I won't have any regrets. I know it's too late for us, that you've moved on, that you deserve someone who can love you the way you need. But I want you to know that no matter where I go, no matter who I marry, I'll always love you.

Fred's heart stopped. The tears he had been holding back finally broke free. The floodgates opened, and he let the emotions he had buried for so long overwhelm him.

He set the letter down slowly, taking a deep breath. As he wiped his eyes, something caught his attention. The handwriting—the way the words looped and curved, the way the ink bled on the paper—was exactly the same as the scribbles in the book. The book he had given her years ago.

It was her book. The one she had left behind. The book the woman he had bumped into had been carrying.

Fred stared at the letters in front of him, piecing it all together. The handwriting matched. The words in the letters were Adhara's words. The book was hers. The same book he had given her, now marked with her thoughts, her feelings.

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

She had never truly let go of him. She had loved him all along.