It was a month before Vic left her house. It was six months before she smiled again. It was a year before she finally began to set in to the new normal. The new normal with the gaping hole where her heart used to be. But today, April 17, Vic took the day off of work so she could grieve alone. No one wanted to see her tears.

She wiped away the last drop. The all-too-vivid flashback had strengthened the ever-present pain. This flashback haunted her nightmares and lurked in the shadows of her life. Again, she looked at the note that was next to her. She chewed her fingernails, a habit Hunter had always hated, as she stared.

"What the heck is wrong with me?" she mumbled. "I am such a chicken. . ." Her fingers finally picked the note off the wooden porch step she was sitting on and unfolded it.

Tori-

Her heart stopped. This had to be a sick joke. She shut the note. Hunter had died.

Yet, she could not contain her curiosity. Slowly, she looked at the note. Her heart ached as her eyes swept over the all too recognizable handwriting.

Tori-

I miss you. That accident was horrible and it nearly killed me. I was unconscious for three weeks. But I can't tell you any more. It is too dangerous. I will come see you when I know it is safe. I love you.

-Hunter

Vic crumpled the note. She cursed at the despicable jerk that had written it. Who would do that to her? Scribble a fake note from her dead fiancée and hide it in the place where only he left notes for her, on the third anniversary of his death? What heartless fool would do that?

Whoever it was, she hated him.

She looked at the paper in her hands, trying to decipher any clues to who the culprit might be. Her heart burned with anger toward the cruel person. How could he do that to her? She doubted she had ever done anything to hurt anyone. Why would someone deliberately hurt her?

A breeze caught the crumpled paper. Vic let the wind carry it, resting her head on her hands. Her fingers carried a familiar scent that made her fragile heart skip a beat. The paper was scented with Hunter's cologne.

Vic chased the breeze and managed to recapture the paper. She opened it, staring long and hard at the handwriting. She crumpled and smoothed it out a dozen times. She was confused, to say the least. Her mind raced with hundreds, thousands of self-constructed answers. None made the slightest bit of sense. Only two were possible. Every other was improbable.

"There is no friggen way Hunter sent me this. But who would have?"

She pondered every possibility, sipping her coffee until she could only reach one logical solution. Pocketing the note, she climbed up the porch steps and through the screen door into her house. Vic walked upstairs and reached under her bed for a certain box that contained every note she and Hunter had shared. She had kept every one he had written her and although he teased her about it, she was glad to find every note she had ever written him kept in this very box inside his house after his death. Opening the box slowly, she pulled out the last note he had written her, and smiled as she re-read his words.

Hey, Tori girl.

How are you doing today? You should be doing well. Tomorrow we're spending all day together. I have to work late, but I'll be ready for tomorrow and I'll probably be awake earlier than you will be. Stop smirking, my dear, we both know your tendency to sleep through the alarm clock. On second though, your smirk is cute. Don't stop. But anyway, I'll see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, Tor.

Love,

Hunter

Sighing with a bittersweet smile, she pulled the mystery note from her pocket and held the two side by side. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt her heart miss a beat.

The writer had mirrored Hunter's handwriting perfectly. "He must have hired a handwriting specialist…That's stupid. Why would anyone go that far for a prank?" she stuttered, placing both notes on her bed and rubbed her face. "I am crazy. . . I'm hallucinating. . . I lost it. . .I have no sanity in me whatsoever. . ."

She finally remembered her coffee. She hoped it could awaken her from this very strange dream, if it was a dream. She realized the mountain wind had probably cooled it by now. Nevertheless, she knew she couldn't leave it outside. Last time she had neglected a coffee out there, a deer had gotten into it. That wouldn't have been so bad, if the effects of the coffee hadn't been strewn all over her yard.

She went out into the sunshine, and took a long look at the lake at the bottom of the hill as she picked up her surprisingly still warm coffee.

"He just can't be alive." She said it firmly, rationally, logically. "It would be impossible. No, more than impossible."

Vic knew in her heart there was no way Hunter was alive after all this time. She returned to her bedroom, knowing that if she allowed herself to fall for the joke, the prank, the lie, she would only end up reliving old pain. Yet, she found herself placing the crumpled up note in the box with the rest, hiding it away under her bed.

By the time the next morning had come around, she had disregarded it as a cruel hearted prank meant to hurt her and nothing more. She took a slightly cooler than normal morning shower to begin her day and clear her head. She drove to work still a little shaken by the cruelty, but alright, determined to push it as far out of her mind as she could, as fast as possible.

Her co-workers greeted her with a smile. She was a receptionist in a pediatrician's office, and worked with some of the friendliest people she knew.

"Mornin' Victoria! Have a nice day off yesterday?" Gloria, the oldest receptionist there asked her with her southern drawl.

Vic held her tongue and only nodded. Thesse people didn't need to be brought down by her tragic memories.

"I bet you were sneakin' off with a secret lover." Gloria joked. "You are so young, you should really go out more, darling. Why, if I was your age and had your looks, honey I'd be out all night long."

Vic just smiled politely and sat in her chair, hanging her light jacket across the back. She had taken this job well after Hunter's death. No one who worked here knew what she had gone through. They were just trying to be nice, she told herself. "I was just home yesterday. It was for something . . . personal."

"Okay, honey, if you say so." Gloria grinned and turned to another co-worker. "Lydia, can you help Shannon with the new. . ."

Gloria's voice faded as Victoria focused on her work. The bell that signaled an incoming customer rang and Vic looked u to greet a mother and her two small children. One was coughing while the other sucked on a red lollipop. "Hi, and welcome to Dr. Gerson's office. If you can just sign in for me right there. . . "

Vic went through the normal routine with this patient and successfully managed to stay focused on her job. The next day was even easier, as was the day after that. Soon, the note faded away, hidden in a forgotten corner of her memory.