The Last Letter

“That’s pretty much the definition of fatherhood, and I think you’d hold up just fine in court. It’s not fraud if you are adopting so that you can help raise them. The insurance is definitely a perk, though—one that Judge Iverson would see. But he lost his wife to cancer about ten years back, so I honestly think you’ve got a good shot that he’d choose to see it as just that: a perk and not the reason. Would the lack of rights bother you?”

He shook his head. “Maisie dying bothers me. I would never take anything from Ella that she didn’t want to give, and I’d never do anything that would hurt the kids.”

I thought of the pictures the nurses had shown me of the little graduation ceremony that Beckett had given Maisie. She loved him. Colt loved him just as much, and I was right there with him. They already had so much to lose when it came to Beckett.

“Would they have to know? Right away, at least?” I blurted out. He could absolutely hurt the kids the minute he walked away. To give them a dad just to take him away was cruel. Once Maisie was in the clear—hoping Beckett was still content in Telluride that far in the future—we could tell them…once her heart was strong enough to withstand the potential fallout of the opposite being true.

Beckett went stiff, but his gaze stayed steady and unwavering in Mark’s direction.

“Uh…” Mark’s eyes shifted between us. “I guess not? Kids don’t have to be informed or give consent until they’re twelve. We’d just have to talk to Judge Iverson. Seeing how he’s always favored you, and his hatred of the Danburys, well, I think we could sway him to agree.”

“So we could really do it?” I asked, that tiny flame of hope flaring up again. “Even though we’re not married?”

“Marriage might be the easier route,” Mark said with a shrug.

“I just can’t. Not after what happened last time. I’m in no rush to get a ring on it.”

“Which is exactly what you should tell Judge Iverson if he asks. Our definition of family has changed a ton in the last couple of decades, and marriage isn’t the determining factor anymore. And, since you’re the children’s mother, and they’re not wards of the state or anything, the only complication would really be Judge Iverson’s opinion. A single man can absolutely adopt his partner’s children without them being married. You guys just might have to play up the partner part a little.”

My cheeks warmed. I hadn’t had a “partner” since Jeff, and he wasn’t really ever that, anyway.

“So basically I’d be trading my sole decision-making rights, and that’s it?”

“Basically.” He fiddled with his wineglass as he watched us, his eyes seeing way too much.

“But you’d be gaining Maisie’s life,” Beckett answered. “And you know I’d never do anything that would cross you when it came to the kids. I’m not some villain. I’m just trying to help.”

“I know,” I said softly, and I did, but trust wasn’t something I handed out like candy.

“There’s one catch. You’re going to have to get Jeff to sign over his parental rights.”

Pretty sure a nuclear bomb going off would have had less impact on my heart.

“Why? He’s not on the birth certificate, and the kids are MacKenzies, not Danburys.”

“Ella, everyone knows Jeff is the father. Whether or not you admit it on the birth certificate doesn’t eliminate his rights. One paternity test and the adoption would be voided. I’m not saying he’d ever exercise his rights, but the judge is going to require the release. No release. No adoption.”

“Right,” I replied, my voice almost mouselike. I didn’t want to see Jeff. Ever. That was like ripping open a fully healed scar just for fun.

We thanked Mark, Beckett paid for dinner, and we left, riding back to the house in a tense silence.

“What way are you leaning?” Beckett asked as we pulled through Solitude’s gate.

“The way that doesn’t require me seeing Jeff.” I slammed my eyes shut. “That’s a lie. I know what you’re offering is a godsend, not just for Maisie, but for Colt. For me. I just can’t bear the idea of having to ask him for anything.”

“I’ll handle Jeff,” Beckett promised. “Besides, he’d probably run screaming if you showed up. At least I can blindside him.”

“You’d do that for me?” I asked as we reached my cabin, the truck coming to a soft stop.

“I would do anything for you.” His eyes locked onto mine in the dashboard lights, intense and a little hurt. “What is it going to take for you to believe me? To trust me? You want my background checked? Do it. You want my credit score? Awesome. My bank accounts? I’ll add you on. You have my word, my body, my time, and I’m standing here offering my last name. What else can I give you?”

“Beckett,” I leaned toward him, but he backed away.

“Not that you’d ever give them my last name, not when they don’t even get to know what we’re doing. Right? I can be their legal father, but I’m not good enough to be their dad.”

“That’s…that’s not what this is about.”

“Oh, I know. It’s that you don’t trust me to stay. You think I’ll walk out just like Jeff did. You think it will hurt the kids even more.”

“I figured we could tell them once Maisie was healthy.”

“If I’m still around by then, right?”

I hated and loved that he knew me so well. I didn’t even have to answer. He saw it in my eyes.

“Yeah. Okay.” He killed the engine and removed the keys. “I don’t even have the right to be upset. I know what I’m offering, and the being dad part isn’t in there, right? Just the legal protection. You need something, I’m giving it to you, just like I promised I would. Simple as that.”

He opened the door and got out of the truck. I followed quickly after, watching his back retreat down my driveway, toward the lake.

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving my truck here. I’ll get it tomorrow before the game. The walk will do me good.”

“Beckett!” I called after him.

“Don’t worry, Ella,” he called back. “I know my role. I’ve got it. And I’ll still show up. That’s how badly I want…”

He didn’t finish, just threw up his hands and kept walking.

But I finished that sentence for him in my head about a dozen different ways.

How badly I want you.

How badly I want your kids.

How badly I want to be in your life.

How badly I want to show up for you.

How badly I want Maisie to live.

Every single one I came up with made me feel worse for not trusting him. But the guy was up against a lifetime of people making promises and leaving me.

And I was up against a lifetime of no one trusting him.

Weren’t we just a pair?





Chapter Sixteen


Beckett


Letter #15

Chaos,

I’m so sorry you lost someone. I can’t imagine how hard that must be, to grieve and still carry on with what you’re doing. Every time I lost someone, my parents or my grandmother, it always shut me down, like my body couldn’t process the enormity of my feelings. It says a lot about the kind of man you are that you can continue to show up, and I mean that in the best of ways.

You say you’re bad with people, that you don’t connect, but that’s not who I see when I open these letters. Or rather, who I hear. Someone who can’t connect wouldn’t be so open. Heck, they wouldn’t have written back in the first place. But you did, and I’m grateful.

Maybe you simply choose who you connect with, and that’s okay. I don’t think anyone wakes up and decides to be the social butterfly like my brother. That’s probably why you two are good friends. You balance each other out.

You know who else I bet you’d connect with? Kids. Maybe not everyone’s kids, but definitely your own. Have you ever thought about kids? It’s a random question, but I’m curious. Probably because I had mine so young, and I can’t imagine not having them, I kind of picture everyone I meet with kids.

Except Hailey. She’s one of my closest friends, and I’m sure one day she’ll make a great mom…after she successfully adults on her own for a while. Successful being the key word there. I bet you’ll love her when you get here. She’s gorgeous, and fun, and doesn’t picture everyone she meets with kids.

Anyway, I bet you’d be a great dad. Brooding and tough, but also sneaking in Star Wars marathons on lazy weekends. I could absolutely picture it…if I could picture you. Yep, I’m still hankering for a picture.

I hope I managed to distract you for a few minutes. I hope you know how very sorry I am for your loss.

~ Ella