I was blessed by Fate the day we met. A journey began for us so spectacular I couldn’t have imagined it. And now we are about to embark on another one. I’m scared. You’re scared. We’re two screwed up kids walking into the unknown about to do something for which we don’t have a guidebook.
But I look at you and realize I have nothing to fear because you are amazing and loving and all the things we need you to be. Of the two of us, you’re the strongest one, and as unfair as it may be, I will rely on you to get us through.
I’m lucky. Our baby is lucky. And I want to write it down now, before the late nights and frustrations, and we forget for a second not to take each other for granted.
I won’t. I promise. I love you. If I die tomorrow, I will die the happiest and most fulfilled man on the planet because I was the man lucky enough to spend those last moments on earth with you. But that’s the poet in me. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, a thrilling thought propelling me to the stars and back.
I love you, Sidy.
Your Forever,
Elijah
Cassidy was a bawling mess by the time she reached the end. Bent over at the waist, she hugged the book to herself and sobbed. Her Elijah wrapped her in his beautiful words and love one last time. And as much as her heart broke, it was also the most healing thing to read.
He’d been scared. He’d had faith. He’d been happy. She’d made him happy; as happy as he’d made her.
Sitting back up, she reread the letter, smiling at the last sentence. Yes, she was stuck with him. Not how they’d imagined, but on some level, it brought her peace. He hadn’t completely let go.
How had she not known he’d written this? How had this ended up in the hands of the ghostwriter instead? She’d personally gone through everything she’d handed over.
Wiping at her cheeks, she picked up the letter accompanying the book.
The words jumped out:brought to my attention… received additional drafts… it was pointed out…
Mac.
Her eyes raised to the boat.
It could only have been Mac. He’d had access to Elijah’s computer, and he’d been the one to point out she was what was missing:her. In other words, Elijah’s heart.
So, he’d done something about it and corrected it.
Fixed it for her, for Elijah.
“Who does that?” She yelled at the boat, a surrogate for the man. “You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to be nice and thoughtful after being so horrible!”
That he’d done it before the accident didn’t matter.
Continuing to wipe her cheeks as her tears free-fell, she picked up the book again. She wasn’t sure her heart could take much more, but she wanted—needed—this to be made right. Taking a deep breath, she turned to the first page.
It was dark by the time she finished, having slipped off the sofa and scooted across the floor to follow the weakening sun instead of taking the time to go and turn on a light. She hadn’t moved otherwise. Her stomach was growling. This time, her light-headed feeling came from a lack of sustenance instead of her concussion.
But she finished. And Elijah had been with her the whole way, which was another reason why she hadn’t wanted to stop.
Elijah’s scene for her had been simple, beautiful, telling, and tear-jerking, but only because she understood it. Again, his secret message.
She was sitting at an outside café, reading a book, a dog at her feet. The protagonist described her in detail as part of the scenery, something delightful to entertain him as he waited. She’d glanced up once to notice his staring—the first time in any of his books they’d ever made eye contact—had looked back down on a blush, her hand going to a slight baby bump.
He’d written in her pregnancy; their baby.
And Fred.
His family.
She leaned back against the glass window as the tears started all over again.
She couldn’t have him back. Or Blake. Or Fred.