Her eyes clouded with tears. “Sergio. I wrote you a letter on your wedding day releasing you, I hope you finally understand that you never needed my permission, you already had it, you have it. I want happiness for both of you but mostly, I made this video to ask for forgiveness, my intention was never to hurt anyone but to help heal.” She shrugged. “Sergio, you’re a smart man, kiss the girl, it’s so much easier then pushing her away and making her cry. And Val, let him love you, his love is great.” She sighed. “He has so much to offer, and I’d like to think this life right now, between you two, is just the beginning of something beautiful. Wouldn’t that be great?” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she smiled brightly. “Because, my ending, my favorite ending would be one where my best friend marries my best friend. I can’t imagine anything better than the love of my life falling for the only best friend I’d ever had. That,” She nodded. “Is pretty spectacular.”
With a heavy sigh, she hung her head and stared directly at the camera.
“I love you both. Be happy.”
The screen went black.
I didn’t know what to say, how to feel.
Because my concern was for the girl sitting on the couch with me, the girl quietly sobbing into her hands whispering over and over again, “She’s dead, my best friend is dead.”
With a curse, I wrapped my arms around her while she sobbed for my dead wife.
Not how I imagined the first few weeks of marriage between us, not at all.
I glared at the guys from over her head and nodded toward the door. I imagined they all came just in case they needed to keep me in check. I didn’t blame them. I’d been losing my shit a lot lately.
“Val.” I kissed her head. “Do you want me to call Dante?”
She shook her head.
The front door shut, blanketing the house in silence.
“Do you need anything to eat?”
What the hell? Like that would make her feel better? A hamburger? Her best friend just died, and I offered to make a McDonald’s run? I mentally slapped myself and hugged her tighter, trying to remember what had made me feel better after Andi’s death.
The door opened and shut again.
“Go away,” I barked.
Phoenix held a white envelope in his hand. “The last letter.”
Val pulled away from me but didn’t look up.
A clap of thunder shook the house as the sound of rain started pattering against the roof.
“Thanks, Phoenix,” I said gruffly, snatching the envelope out of his hands and handing it to Val.
Phoenix nodded and left.
And once again, it was just us.
Only this time the angry storm was our background music, like a reminder that everything had been ravaged, destroyed, tossed around.
“Can you read it?” Val asked in a small voice.
“Yeah.” I licked my lips, opened the letter, and read aloud. “Life is full of two-twirl moments — don’t allow her to settle for only one.”
Val frowned. “I thought it was for me? The last letter?”
I sighed, chest heavy, stood and held out my hand. “It was.”
“What?” She grabbed my hand as I pulled her to her feet and started walking us toward the front door. “What are we doing?”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I pulled her out into the rainstorm as thunder bellowed. I kept walking.
Val followed.
I stopped once we were in the middle of the field and lifted my head toward the sky as rain splashed across my face, the cold both numbing and reviving me simultaneously.
“Sergio?” Val ducked her head into my chest.
“She died here.” I pointed to the ground. “Watching the sunrise. Smiling. Happy. Peaceful.”
Val choked back a sob.
“So this is where we dance.” I announced turning toward her. “This is where we twirl.”
“But—”
“Life…” I couldn’t believe it, but I was channeling Andi. Something snapped inside my bitter chest, like a crack that finally allowed the sun to break through. Val needed to mourn, but she also needed to see that Andi’s life was a celebration. I’d been given that chance. She hadn’t. “…is meant to be lived — felt — experienced. Why spend your life walking — when you can dance?” I gripped both of her hands and started dancing with her in the field as memories of Andi’s life flashed through my mind.
Her smile.
The way she laughed.
Slowly, I held up my hand as Val twirled once beneath my arm, her face finally breaking out into a smile as rain poured down her face mixing with her tears.
“Again,” I whispered as I held her close. “Two twirls, you deserve two twirls.”
She twirled three times and then wrapped her arms around my neck, her warm lips touching my skin with a sizzle. “The last letter was for us.”
“Yeah, it was.”
“I’m not sorry.”
“What?” I pulled back searching her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not sorry that I’m falling for you. I should be sorry, but I’m not. I’m torn between wishing my best friend was here — and feeling guilty that I’m glad it’s me…” She shook her head. “Glad that it’s me, dancing with you, twirling, because not having you in my life terrifies me more than death.”
“Val—” I cursed. “I don’t want you to be sorry for that.”
“No?”
“I’m not sorry either,” I whispered. “I miss her more than life itself… and she’ll always be here.” I placed Val’s hand on my chest. “But the really great part about being human is our hearts grow, they make room, they have no parameters for how big or how much they can love, and even though I’m not worthy, I’m honored that you’re willing to share space with someone I loved — I’m falling for you too, and I’m not sorry for it. I’m only sorry that the road was marked with so much pain for you — and for her.”
“Kiss me.” Her hands tugged greedily at my shirt. “Please. Because, that was really romantic, and I’m still sad, and I don’t want to be sad, I don’t want to be sad…”
“It’s okay to be sad.”