Meagan swallowed hard. “It sometimes leaves you with more questions . . . or . . . more guilt.”
Her eyes lifted up to mine. “Gray, can we go back to your place?”
“Of course we can.”
She slowly handed me the letter. “Will you read it once we get there?”
My hand reached for the letter as I drew in a deep breath and placed my hand on her back while I guided her to the truck.
I prayed that Mitchell left some answers to the questions that were surely swimming in Meagan’s head.
The moment we walked into my apartment, Amanda went into full mom mode. “Why don’t you sit down in the living room with your father, Meg. Grayson can show me around his kitchen.”
Meagan walked a slow walk into the apartment and did as her mother said. Brad was right behind her as they both sat on the couch.
After setting the grocery bags down on the counter, I started showing Amanda where everything was.
I opened the doors to my kitchen island and showed her all the cookware I had. “My mother made sure I had plenty of things to cook with as you can see.”
Amanda chuckled as she grabbed two pots and put them on the stove. “This is perfect. I normally make homemade sauce, but we’ll let it slide this one time,” she said with a wink.
With a grin, I pulled out the whole-wheat spaghetti and jar of sauce from a bag while Amanda filled up the pot with water. I was comfortable around Amanda. She accepted me without hesitation, and I could see how close her and Meagan were.
Pulling myself back to reality. I took in a deep breath and slowly blew it out.
“Should I read her the letter now?” I asked as I peeked into the living room. Meagan was sitting next to her father with her head leaned against his shoulder as they watched television.
Amanda followed my stare as she placed her hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Maybe it’s best to take care of it now.”
I reached into my back pocket and pulled the letter out as I walked into the living. I attempted to find my voice as I cleared the frog from my throat.
“Um, Meagan.”
Her beautiful blue eyes looked up into mine as she smiled. “Do you want to read Mitchell’s letter now?”
Meagan swung her legs over and stood up. Looking down to her father and then over to her mother, she wrung her hands together as she spoke. “Would y’all mind if we stepped outside onto the balcony while Gray reads the letter to me? I kind of feel like I need to hear it alone with him first.”
Brad stood and kissed Meagan on the forehead. “Of course, pumpkin. You do what you need to do. I’ll help your mom with the spaghetti.”
“Thank you, Dad.”
Meagan took my hand in hers as she turned and headed toward the double doors that led out to the balcony. It was unseasonably warm out today and the fresh air felt amazing as I dragged in a deep breath.
Without saying a word, Meagan sat down on the small outdoor couch and pulled her knees up to her chest.
Clearing my throat, I leaned against the railing to face her as I opened the letter.
Dear Meagan,
Please don’t be upset. I did a good job at hiding my pain, but I also tried, Meagan, I really did try and I need you to know that. It was too hard. I felt like I didn’t fit in anywhere and when I did try to fit in . . . I wasn’t being myself.
No one really knows what it’s like to be lost within yourself until it’s too late. The darkness is such a lonely place.
Meagan, you pulled me from that darkness for the longest time. You were the light that was pulling me out. But the darkness can have a terrible hold on you and slowly starts pulling you back in just when you thought you were finally escaping it. I’m so tired of trying to fight it.
Keep fighting for kids like me, Meagan. Teach others that their words really do hurt.
I’m so sorry, but this is the only way I can get out of the darkness that fills me. I wish I had been stronger for you and my family.
Forever your friend,
Mitchell
Glancing up, I expected to see Meagan crying. She sat with her chin resting on her knee as she wore a thoughtful expression.
“Meg?” She lifted her head and stared at me. “You okay?”
Her brows pinched together as she barely opened her mouth to speak. “I’m not sure.”
I dropped to my knees and got in front of her. “Talk to me.”
“When this first happened, the only question I had was why. I asked myself that same question over and over. What could I have done different for him? The other day when I saw him, he seemed so happy, but when I think back to it, I keep trying to think if I missed something. Did he say something to me that I missed? Did his eyes look sad or lost?”
“What have you come up with?”
Chewing on her lip, Meagan shook her head. “Nothing. He seemed like he was happy. I asked him about if he had talked to his mother about not wanting to become a cop. His emotions never faltered. He smiled and said he was planning to soon.”