Love, Rosie (291 page)

heart
filled
with
love
and
hope
and
my
head
filled
with
dreams!
Mum
told

me
about
the
silence
she
experienced
years
ago.
She
kept
telling
me
when
I

felt
that
silence
with
someone,
it
meant
they
were
“the
one.”
I
was
beginning

to
think
she
made
it
up
but
she
didn’t!
This
magical
silence
exists!

You
have
an
instant
message
from:
ALEX

Alex:
Phil
she
felt
the
silence
too.

Phil:

Who,
what,
where,
when?

428

Alex:

Phil:

Alex:

Phil:

Rosie.
She
felt
that
silence
too
all
those
years
ago.

Cecelia
Ahern

Oh
the
dreaded
silence
thing
is
back
to
haunt
us,
is
it?
I
haven’t

heard
you
talk
about
that
for
years.

I
knew
I
wasn’t
imagining
it
Phil!

Well
then,
what
are
you
doing
talking
to
me?
Get
off
the
Internet
you

fool
and
pick
up
the
phone.
Or
the
pen.

Alex
has
logged
off

My
dear
Rosie,

Unbeknownst
to
you
I
took
this
chance
before
many,
many
years
ago.

You
never
received
that
letter
and
I’m
glad
because
my
feelings
since
then

have
changed
dramatically.
They
have
intensified
with
every
passing
day.

I’ll
get
straight
to
the
point
because
if
I
don’t
say
what
I
have
to
say
now,

I
fear
it
will
never
be
said.
And
I
need
to
say
it.

Today
I
love
you
more
than
ever;
tomorrow
I
will
love
you
even
more.
I

need
you
more
than
ever;
I
want
you
more
than
ever.
I’m
a
man
of
fifty
years

of
age
coming
to
you,
feeling
like
a
teenager
in
love,
asking
you
to
give
me
a

chance
and
love
me
back.

Rosie
Dunne
I
love
you
with
all
my
heart,
I
have
always
loved
you
even

when
I
was
seven
years
old
and
lied
about
falling
asleep
on
Santa
watch,

when
I
was
ten
years
old
and
didn’t
invite
you
to
my
birthday
party,
when
I

was
eighteen
and
had
to
move
away,
even
on
my
wedding
days,
on
your

wedding
day,
on
christenings,
birthdays,
and
when
we
fought.
I
loved
you

through
it
all.
Make
me
the
happiest
man
on
this
earth
by
being
with
me.

Please
reply
to
me.

All
my
love,

Alex

epilogue

k

Rosie
read
the
letter
for
what
seemed
like
the
millionth
time
in
her
life,
folded

it
into
four
neat
squares,
and
slid
it
back
into
the
envelope.
Her
eyes
panned

across
her
collection
of
letters,
greeting
cards,
e-mail
printouts,
chat
room

printouts,
faxes,
and
scribbled
notes
from
her
school
days.
There
were
hun-