Page 185 of The Sidekick

“Then we deal with it.” I wince at the set-in-stone voice. “Together.”

I know he won’t relent. He isn’t wrong, I need to face whatever this is head-on. But I don’t want to. Not after how well the morning went. I want one happy day, just like I used to have, and I don’t know if I’m ever going to get that again.

“I just want to hide with you forever,” I whisper and his arms tighten around me.

“How will we pay the electric bill?” He whispers back.

It startles me into a weak chuckle as I drop back to see him. He looks grim, despite the attempt at humor. If the letter could be set on fire with a stare, Asher would have incinerated this one.

His eyes meet mine, and he gives me a small smile. “We’ll read together. If it’s bad, I’ll call out sick and get Shade to help me dig a grave for him.”

I scoff and roll my eyes. “How dramatic.”

“You’ll have to be my alibi,” he continues. I stand to get the letter and settle back in his arms.

I don’t allow myself to think about what I’m doing as I rip it open, not caring about being gentle. There are two folded sheets of lined paper covered in writing. I unfold them and hold the pages up, but I’m shaking so hard I can’t read anything. Asher puts his hands over mine and holds me steady to read.

Babygirl,

I’m hoping Asher isn’t a shit like Shade and actually lets you read this. Or maybe you’ll come out before he does and see this for yourself.

I’ve written a lot of shit and I can’t remember it all so I guess I can sum up the other letters here.

I’m sorry. I will explain in person why I said what I did. I don’t want anyone else reading it but I want to tell you. Just you.

I only write when Max is asleep so he won’t give me shit. He doesn’t know about this. Don’t be pissed at him.

I’ve missed you. Everything about you. I don’t care what it takes. I want you with us. I just finished cleaning out the spare bedroom for you and the dick. Just in case. Fuck I’m getting ahead of myself and I don’t want to stop. I’m grabbing this little bit of hope and I’m fucking stealing it.

I hate that you didn’t come home when it got bad. I lost all of your trust and I have to deal with it. You seem to trust Asher a lot and it worries me. He’s spending the night with you and I’m jealous as fuck over it. I’ve known you for so much longer than him and he’s the one in your bed tonight. I know that’s because I’m a fuckup and I have no one else to blame but I still want to punch him in the face.

If he’s expecting me to back off he can forget it. I’m not losing you again.

I just want to talk to you and not have you run. Please.

I’ll be waiting, even if you shut me out. I’ll always wait for you. I don’t want to force my way back in. I don’t want to break anything about you any more than I already have. I’m leaving things in your hands.

Please come home to me. For real this time.

Always yours,

Trevor

I cycle through a lot of emotions. Confusion because this letter is nothing like I thought it would be. Anger that he has the audacity to just assume that I’m going to walk in and be all ears for whatever he wants to tell me. Then sorrow for whatever pain I caused him, even though he deserves it. This whole letter is an emotional head trip that I don’t want to fall for.

Asher finishes reading and then goes back to the beginning with a frown.

“He says there’s more letters,” he sounds thoughtful as he rereads.

“I don’t care,” I turn my face into his chest and listen to the pages shift in his grip.

I don’t realize I’m crying until he tilts my chin up and wipes the tears away.

“Hold that thought, angel.”

He gets up and sets the letter on my nightstand. He leaves the room and I hear a handle jiggle a few times before a door opens. I sit staring at the pages, unsure exactly what I should think about the letter. Does he think this is enough to convince me he cares? That’s insane.

“Um, angel?”

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