I light another cigarette and read it again; I can hear his voice pleading with me in my head. Why didn’t I just forgive him? Why didn’t I just speak to him? All that wasted time, four whole years. What I would give to have four more years with him now. I was so young and so stupid, but I thought I knew it all.
I suddenly feel very tired, very tired and very alone. I go back to my bedroom, back to my bed, curl up and cry myself to sleep for the next couple of hours.
I’m woken by the sound of someone calling my name, and then someone banging on my bedroom door. I open my eyes and look around at the mess my room’s in; everything from the crate is spread everywhere. I sit up as my bedroom door opens and Jackson’s head appears around it.
“George, sorry, darl; I thought you’d be up and about by now.” His eyes scan over me, then around the room. “What the fuck’s all this lot? Looks like a bomb’s dropped in here.”
I swing my legs to the side of the bed and look up at him. “Go downstairs to the bar and get me a large flat white, please, Jax. I need a quick shower.” He frowns and looks me over again. This boy worries over me as much as my own brothers do; he nods his head slightly.
“You okay, George?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll tell you all about it once I’m showered. One sugar in my coffee, please.” He nods again, but doesn’t move for a few more seconds. His eyes scan the room and his hand rubs over the stubble on his jaw.
“You sure you’re okay?”
I nod again, touched by his concern. “I’m fine; now go, before I start getting naked.”
“Ewww, George, that’s just creepy. I’m going. Large flat white, one sugar; I’m gone. I’m gone.”
He heads down to the bar to grab me a real coffee, while I stand under the shower and try to make up my mind about whether I want to read any more of Sean’s letters.
I shower, dress and then head out to the kitchen. Jackson is sitting on a stool at the kitchen worktop and has my coffee sitting in a takeaway cup with a lid on it in front of him. I go straight to the cupboard and pull out a real mug; I hate drinking out of those cardboard things.
“What’s going on, George? What’s all that shit over the bedroom floor?” I pause for a few seconds, considering what lie I can come up with because I know Jax will think what I’m doing is wrong. I take a deep breath, turn around and face him.
“They’re letters and stuff Sean wrote to me when we split up for four years, back when the band first made it big.” I transfer my coffee from the cardboard to the ceramic mug, and then raise my eyes to meet his.
“Why are they here?”
I swallow. I know he’s not going to be happy. Jackson has been like my therapist since I got here and he’s given me nothing but sound advice, but I didn’t tell him I was going to do this.
“I’ve never read them.” I take a sip of my coffee and wait for his reply.
“So, why read them now?”
I shrug and let out a loud sigh. “I just thought it might bring me some closure. Not closure as such, I don’t think I’ll ever achieve that, but…” I shrug and trail off. “I’m ready to read them. I want to hear his thoughts. What he was going through at that time. It’s a part of him I didn’t have, that I didn’t share, and I want it. I want any part of him I can get.” I gulp down the last of my coffee and almost choke as I try to swallow down a sob with it.