“He knew.”
I shake my head, not understanding her.
“He knew about the blood clotting condition.He knew about the risks.He knew.And when he felt bad, instead of going to the doctor like he should’ve, he downplayed it.He let me convince him to come home and rest.”Her voice cracks and she turns away from me, her arms wrapped around her stomach and her shoulders hunched.She moves back into her house, pacing back and forth in the living room, her eyes unseeing while her thoughts clearly spiral.
Walking in, I close the door behind me and then lean against it, giving her room to pace while I try to wrap my head around what she’s just said.
“How do you know?”
She stops in her tracks and faces me.“What?”
“How do you know he knew about the condition?I thought his mom said no one knew about it.”
She walks over to the coffee table and picks up a piece of paper and then hands it to me.Robbie’s familiar sloppy handwriting makes my heart clench.
Hey Sweetheart,
I really hope you never have to read this letter, but when my dad died, I would’ve given anything to have a letter—something, anything—from him one last time, so I thought better to play it safe than sorry.I recently saw my doctor and found out I have a genetic blood clotting condition.I think it’s probably what played a role in my dad’s death.It got me thinking about all the things I’d want to make sure you knew if I was gone, all the things I wouldn’t be able to tell you anymore.
When you lose a parent at a young age, there’s always this fear you might die at the same age they did.It’s an idea that’s been in the back of my head for a long time, so long it’s become second nature to assume my time on earth will likely be shorter than I’d like.It’s why I always brought up the idea of you moving on if anything happened to me.I know you used to laugh off those conversations, but I was always serious.
I only want the best for you, Jo.I want you to be happy, cared for, and loved.And if I’m not there to give you those things, I want you to move on and find them with someone else.Someone who will love you as much as I do.I can see you shaking your head right now and thinking you can’t, but you CAN.In fact, you have to—for me.
I don’t want you to live your life alone and sad.I’ve seen what that did to my mom and I don’t want that for you.You promised me if I go first you’d be willing to find love again.I need you to uphold your promise.If you don’t, I’m gonna haunt you.JK.Maybe.
If you are reading this, then that means I did go before you.I’m so sorry.I don’t know what caused it, although I have some guesses that maybe I wasn’t able to control my genetic condition like I’ve been trying to.Regardless, know I didn’t leave you willingly.
I love you, Jolie.I’ll love you until the end of time.Please don’t ever doubt that.
Be strong.
Forever yours,
Robbie
Right there in black ink, Robbie admits he found out he had a blood clotting condition—the same one that played such a critical role in his untimely death—and knew his odds of dying young like his dad were high.
How the fuck could he know this and not demand he see a doctor that night?Why did he go home and think he could sleep it off?
Worst of all, how could he accept his fate and write this letter to Jolie like there was nothing he could do?Like even with his knowledge of his condition, an early death was likely inevitable.If she were mine, I would’ve fought heaven and earth to stay with her.
How could he do this to her?
An anger like I’ve never felt before rips through me at his blatant disregard for his life, forherheart.I gave her up so they could be happy and he does this?!
What the fuck.
“He left one for you too.”Her whisper-soft voice breaks through the simmering anger, and I look up from the letter she handed me to an envelope with my name on it.
I take it from her and stare at my name on the front.It feels heavy, and I wonder if it’ll reveal the same secret to me as he revealed to her, or if it’ll be something else.
“Are you going to open it?”
I look up into her green eyes that look more sage-green today.There’s still pain there—the same pain that’s been there for a year—but there’s something else I haven’t seen.
Acceptance.
“Tristan?”