LETTERS
Once everyone is settled, and those who left for their hotel rooms for the night are gone, I walk into the master bedroom and grab the folder from my bag, setting it on the bed. I then grab Collin’s favorite Boston Red Sox sweatshirt and set it next to it. I stand, looking at it, and decide to give myself a minute.
I go into the bathroom, stand in front of my sink, take my toothbrush from the holder, where his used to stand beside it, and brush my teeth and wash my face.
When I come out, I make sure the door is locked before I remove my clothes and pull Collin’s sweatshirt over my head. Crawling into bed, I pull the covers up over me and grab the folder.
Collin was a writer. Not in the typical sense, either. He wrote letters to me. Letters to be mailed or given to me at specific dates and events in my life. Tomas holds them, and each time he gives me one, I ask for them all, and he lies, “That’s the last one.”
Each seemed to come at the time I needed it most. Each urged me to move on, to live, to enjoy life. In one, he told me that he knew I was his one and only true love. He never expected or even dreamed of having what we had together. He didn’t know he could until me. It didn’t matter that he had been with hundreds of women, and yes, that was the first time a number was ever disclosed, yet it wouldn’t have mattered if it were thousands. I knew what I meant to him, and he knew what he meant to me.
No matter the amount of love I have for him, I am angry that he left me. I was even angrier at him for telling me in a letter that he always knew his time here would be short. He cheated death thousands of times by the grace of God and a lot of luck. He never saw himself old. Not in dreams, or in future plans, and Collin planned for everything. He even wrote his eulogy. He wrote his life was better than he ever expected or felt he deserved, and he said it was because of my love.
I am still so angry when I read that. Angry at him for becoming part of my life when he knew he would leave me too early. Then I would be upset with myself because I was angry at him. You see, I can hold it together for all the people around me—my family, my friends, everyone. I can fake my way through this life if that’s what it takes, because down deep, I want to go to sleep and not wake up.
One minute, I’m happy the next, sad then angry. Other times, I have suicidal thoughts. I feel like that same girl from high school, the one whose heart was shattered by Lucas over and over again. Damn him for fucking up so many times, and damn him for not, because if he didn’t, I would have never been Collin’s wife.
Lucas. I don’t even know where to start with whatever it is that’s going on with us. Honestly, I don’t know what I am going to do about the situation I keep creating with him.
That first night, I had no intention of coming on to him, but I was drunk and lonely. Yes, lonely. I was married for a long time. I was used to being held, kissed, loved, and touchedall the time. And then it was gone.
I told Jade. Apparently, I needed to talk. Jade said it was because Lucas was safe. But he wasn’t safe. He never has been. I thought, for a fleeting moment, that he could just have sex with me, like he had so many others. Then he had to tell me he loves me, that we’re going to happen, and that I was drunk and he couldn’t.
That brought back so many memories from long ago. And, what do I do? Obsess over it. If that’s not bad enough, I do it knowing I am. And what does that do? Make me feel. Numbness, loneliness, sadness fleeting. Competitiveness and longing to be needed, desired, wanted, touched by a man who shattered me so I could feel.
I talked to Jade about that, too, and she said we have already been on a few dates. I laughed but let myself do it, even though it was wrong.A few times.
And feel, I did. I lost myself in him, and then I immediately regretted it. So, what do I do? Do it again and again. When I finally let it sink in, I hate myself. Then I let myself see what I was doing to him—Jade pointed it out. He was hurting, too. He has just been cheated on, his wife left. Jade told me she didn’t contact Logan; that he had to contact her. And she told me that I needed to be considerate of his feelings.
That caused me to fall into another bout of self-hatred. Then we went to South America. There, I learned that Collin kept a secret from me about Tomas. Now I know why he did it. He was protecting his right-hand man, Tomas, which is not his real name. But then I start to doubt Collin.
Between handovers, I stayed away from Jade and Lucas, so I went on tour with Maddox and Harper. I could lose myself in their love and not be angry at Collin because: how could I when he saved Harper’s life and never treated me with anything but love?
I made friends with Zach Taylor. He was still front man for Maddox’s old band, Burning Souls, but decided to support Maddox for a while. He wasn’t touring, and he was trying to stay out of his sister’s hair. He told me she said he was smothering her.
He and I had a lot of discussions about music, love, loss, and friendship. Jade later pointed out to me that he was attracted to me, and I told her he was not. He’s twelve years younger than me. I told her she is absurd. She told me I was an idiot for not seeing it. I may be, but there is no attraction on my side.
Zach allowed me not to think about Lucas or the fact that Collin betrayed my trust for the first time, and that I did the same by sleeping with Lucas.
I look down at the folder and try to read the letters. I want to feel him here. Let him know I am sorry before I let him go forever by scattering his ashes where I know he would want them to be,because he said so.
There’s a knock at the door, and I get up and unlock it. I peek out and see it’s Jade. I open it so she can come in.
She walks in and holds up a letter. “This is for you. It came from Tomas. I was supposed to give it to you before tomorrow’s celebration.”
“Celebration,” I huff and sit down.
She looks at the open folder then up at me. “How are you doing?”
“Great.” I take the letter in my hand and see his writing. It’s perfect.
“Want me to stay?”
“If you want.”
“I want.” She sits and pulls her legs up, waiting for me to read the letter.
I open it, pull out the ivory stationary paper, and then I look up at Jade.