No more stealing.
No more leaving.
It was time for her to come home.
My chest swelled. I realized I wanted to share this with her, too. That I’d found a man that I loved with a little boy who I loved just as much.
A family to call my own.
Would she share in my joy? Feel all the things I’d feel for her?
Tears blurred my eyes when I saw the light blue envelope peeking out, the same as she’d sent the rest in.
Relief pressed against my ribs.
I so badly wanted to fix this part of my life. To restore what had been broken down.
“What’s the matter?” Gage blinked up at me.
“Nothing, sweet boy. Nothing. I just got a letter I was hoping to get.”
“From a friend?!” Excitement widened his eyes.
“From my sister.”
“You got a sister? I don’t have a sister or a brother, but I think I want to have five of ’em.”
A laugh ripped free. Clogged with the emotion. With the love. I ruffled my fingers through those locks of gold-kissed hair as we stepped back through the front door. “Five, huh? That’s a tall order.”
He shrugged. “My dad says brothers are the best. Obviously, I really need to get me some of those, too. Life’s better with the one’s you love, you know, least that’s what my uncle Logan says.”
Love burned. Burned bright with the possibility.
Although five was pushing it.
“I think your uncle Logan is definitely right. Sisters are good, too. Let me show you.” I grabbed an album that was tucked in one of the shelves in the living room and carried it with the stack of mail into the kitchen. I set it on the table for Gage to look through while I tore into the envelope and pulled out the folded letter.
My eyes raced over the words, knowing they were likely to hurt, but we often had to open ourselves up to the pain, let the wounds bleed, before we could truly heal.
Do you remember…
Do you remember, Eden, after I left? I went to Las Vegas thinking there would be a better life waiting for me there. After all, the only thing I’d wanted to do was dance. I knew I was leaving you behind, closing the door on that chapter of my childhood because it was too painful to keep it open.
Do you remember I didn’t call for so long, not until I started calling Daddy for money, manipulating him while he was grieving for Mom? He’d wipe out his bank accounts because I’d convince him I was in need, not making enough, when all I’d really done was put it up my nose.
It was easier not to feel that way. To numb. To hide. To pretend like I could maybe be halfway whole.
Do you remember how you both still loved me then, even though I know you knew? That you saw right through the lies?
I choked over her confession. I suppose a part of me had always known. That she’d slipped so far that she’d begun to numb herself from the pain. But she’d never once come out and said it. Admitted it. And I knew…knew she was opening up, giving me more in a way she’d never done.
Behind me, Gage chattered and giggled at the pictures in the album while I went back to devouring the letter.
Do you remember when you sent me a letter asking me to come back for your wedding? To stand at your side? I said yes, but I didn’t show, but I still watched you from afar.
I saw a flicker of your joy, and I was jealous then that you could feel any joy at all.
Do you remember, Eden? When I spiraled? When the drugs became the only thing that mattered? When I started to take off my clothes for money before I started to crawl into strangers’ cars where I walked the street?
The next fix.
The next hit.
Do you remember, I hopped on some guy’s bike and rode with him to LA where he promised me he would make it better?
No, you don’t, because you didn’t know me then.
I wheezed over the shock. My brow pinched tight. Pain lanced through me. Pain for my sister. For that life. For all she’d let go. Her confessions felt like a brand-new puncture to my heart.
My mind began to spin with the rest.
She’d gone to LA? When?
In the background, Gage was saying something about me being a cute baby, but I couldn’t focus on anything but trying to process what Harmony was saying.
The depravity.
The sickness.
The endless cycle of pain and numbness that just went on and on.
But I do.
I remember it all.
I remember when I stooped to my lowest low.
I got pregnant there, Eden. Do you remember?
What? The paper curled in my fingers, eyes frantic as I rushed to read the rest.
No, you couldn’t remember, because I’d shut you and Daddy out.