“It’s private,” Hannah growled. “I found it just before coming to save you. I didn’t have time to look at it.”
Levi played with the collar of his shirt, smoothing it out after having been ruffled from their steamy kiss. He had an urge to reach out to her, to pull her in by the hips and continue right from where they left off.
But Hannah was standing still, her fingers trembling as she stared at the bedside table like it was a bomb about to explode.
“You should read it,” Levi blurted.
Hannah turned to him, face still flushed from their fervent passion, and raised an eyebrow.
“There’s no way,” she said, bemused. “She is looking for forgiveness for the way she neglected me, solely for herself. There’s no way I’m giving that to her.”
Levi scooted his body on the bed, so he was closer to her. She remained standing, giving him a faint look of confusion. He took her hand gently and rubbed his thumb against her palm. “It’ll probably be good for your mental health,” Levi whispered. “Yours and hers. You’re just going to keep wondering what it says anyway.”
Levi didn’t know what the hell had come over him. He had never been so invested in a woman’s well-being, especially one he had just met. But with Hannah, he felt like whatever emotion was running through her veins was also running through his. He would do anything to remedy the storm he saw swirling in her emerald eyes.
Hannah’s free hand continued to tremble, and Levi continued to touch it lightly, indicating that he could see her pain. Her look of slight disgust vanished, jaw unclenching, eyelid ceasing to twitch.
“I can’t,” she breathed.
Levi held both her hands, looking away for a moment, then returning with unwavering confidence that made him feel like Superman.
“Do you want me to read it to you?”
Hannah’s eyes began to look glassy in the dark, and she nodded frantically.
Levi knew that Hannah wasn’t the person who easily exposed her emotions to just anyone, so he made a point of disregarding her tears as she turned away, at least for the time being.
She opened the drawer and removed the letter. She held it like it was some ancient weapon that would fire off if she wasn’t strictly cautious. She handed it to Levi and sat beside him on the edge of the bed.
Levi’s heart pounded hard in his chest. He didn’t know exactly what kind of rabbit hole he was allowing himself to fall into, but he was willing to suffer the consequences. Anything for Hannah.
It was a curious and intriguing sensation.
Levi opened the letter and unfolded a few sheets of paper. The letter was handwritten, with lots of old-fashioned swoops and long flows. It was mostly legible, though, especially to Levi, who was used to having to interpret his own chicken scratch.
He cleared his throat as he felt Hannah’s thigh pressing against his own.
“Hannah,” Levi began. “I know within the depths of my heart and soul that there are very few words I can select that will somehow awaken some sort of forgiveness in you. But I promise you, that is not the result that I am seeking through the writing of this letter.”
Levi felt a beat between them, noticing in his peripheral vision that Hannah’s gaze was cast downward. He continued after a moment, watching Hannah carefully.
“I have been going to AA meetings for five years now,” Levi continued to read. “One of their foundational concepts is making amends with those that you have wronged through your alcoholism, but without any expectation. Well, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t even minutely hopeful for something from you. But that is not my goal. My goal is to say that I am, unequivocally, beyond the temples of the Aztec gods, sorry for what I have done to you.”
Levi felt Hannah’s body tense beside him and used the opportunity to slide one hand over her leg. She placed a hand on top of his, which Levi felt was a good sign.
“Are you okay?” Levi asked.
“Keep going,” Hannah said, sniffing.
“… I let my pain overwhelm me,” Levi continued reading the letter. “And when I became overwhelmed, I drank, and that drinking left you to act as the parent. You had already lost your father and, very quickly, lost your mother as well.”
Hannah closed her eyes as tears began to stream down her face. Levi continued.
“I have been sober for five solid years, Hannah. I have been working at the county clerk’s office, making an honest living, and coming home to watch TV like any common American. It’s simple, and I like it. But I do miss you, deeply.”
Levi finished off the letter while Hannah’s shoulders began to shake next to him, the sorrow of years upon years finally finding its way out of her body.
“I love you more than any words could ever say, but I will do my best in trying to say so. You are my daughter, and you will always be my daughter. The next steps are yours to make, and I will not shame you for whatever you choose.”