Chapter 2I withdraw the envelope from the tote and turn it back and forth. The flap is just tucked inside and it’s not thick, so there’s probably just a single sheet of paper inside. I finger the envelope, chewing on my lip. I lay it on the keyboard as I unpack the groceries—smiling at two boxes of my favorite cookies—pour myself a cup of coffee, then sit back by my laptop, looking at the envelope.
What can it be?
I’m eager to yank out the paper inside and read it, but at the same time, the stark white envelope causes a niggle in my stomach. It’s not like I think he’ll break off the engagement via letter while I’m quarantined, but it must be something important. Why else would he feel the need to write to me instead of just telling me on a call or a Skype session?
But instead of opening
