“Not a problem, doll,” he answered as he turned toward the door. “Clutch will be by in a bit. He had to run by the clubhouse to see Guardrail about something first.”
Needing some time to myself, I said, “Tell him I’m fine. There’s no need for him to come.”
Walking toward the door, he laughed as he said, “I’ll tell him, not that it’s gonna matter.”
I locked the door behind him and returned to my spot on the sofa. I started flipping through the channels, searching for something that might be boring enough to let me fall asleep for a little while. I stopped when I came across some old western with John Wayne. Just seeing it reminded me of Cotton. He’d always had a thing for old westerns, saying it was something he loved watching with his dad. It was crazy how some old movie could make me miss him so much. I remembered I’d received several text messages and emails from him over the past few weeks, but I hadn’t read them. I just didn’t have the strength to even look, so I just left them in my inbox. I grabbed my phone and stared at the screen for several minutes before I had the nerve to open one of the text messages. The first few messages were typical, bossy Cotton:
Monday, (two weeks ago)
Cotton:
Answer the phone, Cass.
Wednesday, (two weeks ago)
Cotton:
This is crazy.
I shouldn’t have sent you away.
I’ve said that. Over and Over.
I don’t know how many times you need me to say it.
There were tons of these short, berating messages, and when I got tired of trying to sort through them, I opened my email. There were over forty messages waiting to be read, but one instantly caught my eye. It was labeled Lonestar, the title of one of my favorite songs by Norah Jones, and he’d just sent it a couple of days ago. I quickly opened it and began to cry as I saw what was written inside.
Cass,
I was sitting here, listening to one of the songs you used to sing. I’ve always liked them, especially when you were singing them. But tonight, this one got to me. It reminded me of you. Every time I close my eyes, I see your face that day in the hospital. I watch the spark in your eyes disappear over and over again in my mind. Knowing that I was the one who stole that light from you has haunted me since the day you walked out that door. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to bring that light back, and I will never stop fighting for the chance to make things right. It’s made me realize something… Cass, you are my Lonestar.
Always,
Cotton
By the time I’d finished reading the letter, I was crying uncontrollably. Cotton had let his guard down, and for the first time, I saw a vulnerable side to him… a side I wanted to treasure and hold close to my heart. I read through several of the emails, finally learning about his rehab facility and all the work he’d been doing so he could walk on his own again. I couldn’t help but laugh when he went on and on about some lady he called his own personal drill sergeant. Some of the letters were more like journal entries, just short messages telling me about his day, while others were some of the most endearing letters I’d ever read. Once I’d gone through all of the emails, I went back to my text messages. I quickly skimmed over the first six or seven messages, until his words stopped being so demanding and intense. As I’d hoped, they eventually turned into something completely different. I needed to know he was capable of that kind of honesty. Reading his words changed things. My heart was softening after all the hurt and humiliation of being sent away. Until the letters, Cotton had shown no understanding of my feelings. Now, maybe there was a chance. I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face as I read the words written in all the different messages. I was so torn. I loved him so, but I wasn’t sure I could ever really trust him with my heart again.
Sunday, (a week ago)
Cotton:
I’d rather be in hell than in this place.
I know I shouldn’t complain. I’m doing better.
The walker is gone and replaced with a cane.
It’s progress, but it’s not enough. I want to be home.
Cass, I’m sorry. I miss you more with each breath I take.
Friday, (less than a week ago)
Cotton:
Remember the day you told me about your grandmother’s house, and how it was your favorite place? I wish I were sitting on that swing with you right now, looking out at the ocean.
I wish I were anywhere with you.
Sunday, (this week)
Cotton:
I miss your face, your smile, and the way your eyes light up when you get your way. I miss the sound of your voice when you sing. I miss holding you in my arms, kissing you, making love to you.
You’ll always be mine, Cass.
I’m not giving up on you.
I’d read through so many messages, each one tugging at my heart, but one… one short text message took my breath away.
(Two hours ago)
Cotton:
I’m coming home.