Page 48 of Diving In

Speaking of growing up, thankfully you got most of your mother’s traits. The beauty, the compassion, and the emotions—my god, the emotions. Georgia, you could start a riot. Promise me you’ll never let that scare you? You don’t understand that some people live their whole life wishing they could feel half the things you do.

However, with all those wonderful traits you inherited from your mother, it appears you inherited a few from me as well. The worst ones being your ability to push every last person away and your need to control everything. While sometimes distance is necessary, and controlling things is essential, it doesn’t have to be an all-or-nothing mentality. That’s something I wish I would’ve learned a long time ago.

I’m rambling at this point (another thing I know you got from me, sorry about that), but if you listen to anything I say in these letters, please let it be this: Unlike me, you still have the ability to change the outcome of your life. You have the ability to live your life to the fullest, chase those dreams of yours (yes, the ones that you and I used to talk about every morning in the kitchen), and love ferociously. And please, please don’t ever settle—for life, for love, for anything. Even if it’s the safe bet. Always remember, safe doesn’t always mean better.

Lastly, I left one final letter for you at The Rogue Shallot. It’s located right next to The Scoop—it’s new, but not new-new. It’s locally owned, and they have the most delicious lobster bisque you’ll ever taste. Have a cup for me.

Georgia James Windsor, you’re a storm to be reckoned with and I’ll always be proud of you, no matter what direction you decide to go.

I love you way past heaven.

Jack

A single tear fell from my eye, too quickly for me to swipe it away, and I watched as it splashed onto the page, smearing the ink. Trying to conceal the dramatics, I refolded the letter and put it back into the envelope. For some reason, reading it brought up different emotions this time. Instead of anger and annoyance, I felt sorrow and remorse.

Cal peered over my shoulder and wiped my tears away. “It’s okay to be sad. You don’t have to hide what you’re feeling, especially not with me.”

“Did you read it?” I asked.

“No, that’s your business. You can tell me about it if and when you want to.”

“I want to hate him. I want to hate Jack, but I can’t,” I admitted.

“I’ve noticed you never say dad, it’s always Jack… Why is that?” he asked.

“It’s been a long time sinceDadwas an adequate name for what he was to me, so he’s Jack. It’s always been the safe bet. Jack stopped being a dad to me the day he decided to watch Mom and I walk out of his life. To us, it seemed like when we left, he didn’t even care, although now, knowing about Beau, it seems like maybe he did care after all, just in his own way,” I responded.

Cal squeezed me closer to him, feeling like my own personal safety blanket. “I’m sorry, Georgia. If I could take your pain away, I would in a heartbeat. The look on your face when you talk about Jack breaks my fucking heart, especially because I know how he really felt about you.”

“I’ve spent so much time being angry at Jack, and for what? All so that it could lead me here, to this sad and lonely place? He’s gone, my life is a fucking dumpster fire, and I have no idea what to do next. I feel lost, I feel sad, I feel angry…” I trailed off for a second before continuing my word vomit. “Oh, and as if all of that isn’t enough, I just had the best sex of my life. Which would be great if not for the fact that forty-eight hours ago, I was in a relationship with the person I’d planned to marry—”

My stomach sank as I cut myself off, my heart hammering. I pulled my hands to my face, processing the words that had just left my mouth and feeling immediately nauseated. Cal’s grip on me instantly loosened.

The air quickly filled the space he’d just moved away from, sending a coldness down my spine. I desperately wanted to reach out and demand that he come back, that he let me explain what I meant.

“Cal,” I faltered as I felt him pull away, both physically and emotionally.

He nudged me off, like I was nothing but a coat on his back. He smoothly climbed out of the bed and moved toward his clothes.

I didn’t know what to say. I always did have a way of ruining a good thing when it came around, and here I was once again. Although I knew I would have had to tell him eventually, I just wished it wouldn’t have happened at this moment.

“Cal, please don’t go. That came out wrong. Please let me explain,” I begged as I reached for the blankets to cover me up, attempting to hide my vulnerability more than my nakedness.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal, really,” he countered, and even though I knew he was lying, I couldn’t even blame him.

“Let me explain, Cal. It’s not what it sounds like. We broke up… I broke up with him before I came here. Our relationship wasn’t healthy, and it had been a long time coming…”

I searched for a way to illustrate just how much Iandidn’tmean to me anymore, how much our relationship had been nothing more than a convenience for both of us, but the words that had once flowed like a river were now nowhere to be found.

“There’s nothing to explain. I’ve had a one-night stand before. You don’t have to walk me through it, and you sure as shit don’t owe me an explanation,” he muttered.

A one-night stand.

Is that all this was?

“Cal, you can’t mean that. I’ve spent the past two days with you, and the feelings I have for you are far superior to anything I’ve ever felt—ever.You can’t tell me you haven’t felt the same thing,” I pled as tears welled in my eyes. “I’ve spent my whole life masking my emotions, not letting anyone see how I really feel, always afraid of what they might think. And yet, I’ve shared more of who I am with you within two days than I have with people I’ve known for years. Please, Cal. Don’t walk out on me, not now,” I begged.

Not offering a single response, he started getting dressed.

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