The Last Letter

“Why? Because I ruined Ella? Like she had a future anyway.”

“You think you ruined Ella? There’s no man on the planet who could do that. Don’t flatter yourself. The only reason she’s not here is because you’re not worth her time. Now get your checkbook.”

He left the conference room, returning quickly with his pen poised over an open checkbook. “How much?”

“Whatever you think it’s worth to keep your future father-in-law happy and your father’s name on the wall.”

He scrawled his pen across the check and then flung the paper at me.

The check rustled to a gentle stop right in front of me, and I took it, folding it in half and slipping it into my breast pocket.

“You’re not even going to look at it?” he squawked.

“Nope. It’s either enough, or it’s not.” I stood, buttoning my suit coat, and headed for the door, file in hand.

“How did you know about the trust fund?” he asked again, still seated.

I paused, my hand on the door, debating.

What the hell. Why not?

“Oh, you know. Small-town people with small-town minds, they have big hearts and bigger mouths. And just for the record, the best thing you’ve ever done in your life is walk away from Ella. You never came back to mess with the kids. I’d keep to that tradition if I were you. I protect what’s mine.”

I walked away without a second thought, heading for a little army base just outside of Denver. There was another set of papers that needed signing today.



“Beckett!” Colt flew through the door and launched himself into my arms, like I’d been gone two weeks instead of two days.

“What’s up, little man?” I lifted him into the air, savoring the smell of cinnamon and sunshine as I shuffled the folder in my hands.

“We’re baking!”

I carried him into the house and was greeted by the same scent. “Apple pie?” I asked.

“How did you know?”

“Well, the only thing that smells that good while it’s baking is apple pie or Little Boy Pie and, since you’re still here, I went with the apples.”

Havoc swirled around my legs in greeting, and I set Colt down to give my girl a little behind-the-ear rub. “Good job,” I told her, knowing she’d stuck by Colt’s side.

“Beckett!” Maisie called out from the couch.

“How’s my best girl?” I asked, coming around to crouch next to where she lay. She was pale, her skin nearly translucent. “Feeling okay?”

She shook her head.

“If you could get her to drink something, I’d pretty much fork over my soul,” Ella said, coming from the kitchen, a smattering of flour on her forehead.

A pang of yearning blended with pure lust. I wanted this life and this woman. Wanted the freedom to steal her away from the kids for a second and get my hands on her. Kiss her. Touch her. Watch her eyes flutter shut in pleasure. Watch the worry lines fade from her brow.

“Apple pie, huh?”

“It’s her favorite, so I thought maybe…” She shrugged.

“What do I have to bribe you with to get a few capfuls of Gatorade down you?” I asked Maisie.

She looked up at me, those blue eyes turning deadly serious. “No more Moana. Get me Star Wars. It’s not scary.” She shot a little glare in Ella’s direction.

Ella scoffed, but nodded to okay the transaction.

“Deal. I have the green apple flavor you like at my house. Give me a couple minutes with your mom and I’ll get it, okay?”

“Deal.”

I pulled her blanket up a little farther and followed Ella into her office.

YOU ARE ENOUGH.

The handwritten sign I’d sent her hung on the bulletin board. Hell yes, she was enough. I was the one who lacked in just about every department. Including the honesty one.

How weird was it to be jealous of yourself? To know another version of you had a piece of the woman you loved?

“How are her platelet levels?”

“We’re going into the medical center tomorrow morning for another transfusion. They can do it in Telluride, so at least it’s close.”

I nodded and handed Ella the folder.

Her fingers trembled a little, but she opened it. Then her mouth dropped open. “You did it.”

“I did. You’re free. The kids are free.”

“How?” She read it again.

“I’m very convincing.”

She grinned up at me. “That, I believe.”

I slipped the check into the folder, letting it fall on top of the document. Her mouth fell open.

“What is this?”

“What you’re owed.”

She sat back, her butt perched on the edge of her desk. “It’s half a million dollars. Why would he… What did you do?”

“Got you a little of the money he should have given you all along.”

She looked up at me, her face a myriad of expressions I couldn’t keep up with. “I don’t want it.”

“I figured.”

“You did?”

I nodded. “You raised them on your own. I figured the last thing you’d do is take the money now. That would give him a feeling of ownership you’d never allow.”

“Then why did you bring it?”

“You said once that to hurt him I had to hit the money. So I hurt him. I brought you the check because I won’t ever take a choice like that from you. That money could pay off all the debt on Solitude, or pay for treatments for Maisie. Or for their college in the future. I wasn’t taking that choice.”

“I don’t need it for Maisie, now.”

“Not if you want me to adopt her, you don’t. That’s another choice I won’t force on you. I’m not Jeff. And this gives you options. That check means you’re not cornered. You don’t have to choose me.”

We stood there, our eyes locked in a silent conversation as she considered. Mine begged her to trust me. To lean on me. To need me even a small percentage of the way I needed her. Hers pondered, weighed, and decided, staying locked with mine as she ripped the check to shreds.

“I choose you. And now I’m free. We’re free.”

I grinned because I knew I wasn’t free anymore—I was hers…theirs.





Chapter Seventeen


Beckett


Letter #3

Chaos,

Parenthood sucks. Sorry, I know we don’t know each other well enough for me to say something like that, but it does. At least today it does.

I just spent the better part of my afternoon in the principal’s office. Not only that, but it was the same principal from when I was a kid. I swear, I sat down in that squeaky pleather chair across from his desk and I was seven all over again.

Except now I’m the adult, and my kids are the ones putting me in the hot seat.

Colt and Maisie are in the same kindergarten class. I know, I got a ton of crap about putting twins in the same class, and how it doesn’t let them cultivate their own identity, but those so-called experts never had to look at my blue-eyed heathens and listen to them refuse to be separated. And by refuse, I mean we tried. For the first week of school, I had to pick them up every day by nine a.m. because they kept leaving to go to the other’s classroom. Finally, we relented. You know the phrase “pick your battles”? It was more like “concede the war, you’re losing.” But fine.

Anyway, there’s a little boy with a huge crush on Maisie. Cute, right? Not so much. Today at recess, he decided the whole class would play “kiss tag,” where I guess instead of tagging someone with your hand, you plant one on them. Nice, right? Maisie didn’t want to play, so the boy started chasing her anyway, eventually tripping her and kissing her despite her objections. Naturally, she shoved him off and decked him. My brother would be proud; she landed that punch just like he taught her.

Colt heard the commotion and went running. When Maisie told him what happened, he kept cool, but the other little boy called her a not-nice name that rhymes with witch (according to Colt), and well…Colt went ballistic.

The other boy has a black eye and a mouthful of playground sand. Did I mention I went to school with his mom? Super awkward small-town life.

Colt has a week of detention, which Maisie is demanding she serve with him. They’re five years old. FIVE YEARS OLD, Chaos. This is kindergarten. How the hell am I going to survive the teen years?

Ugh. That’s all for today. Parenting sucks.

~ Ella