If anyone can show my son what love looks like, I have faith that it’s you, Daisy Maja.
In turn, I hope Beckett keeps you safe, and that he protects and cherishes you. I know you’re an independent woman and have been looking after yourself for a long time, but you don’t have to do it all on your own.
If I know my son like I think I do (or used to, anyway), I’m guessing he stepped up to the plate and lightened your load. Sometimes you don’t even realize how heavy it is until someone comes along and lifts it off your shoulders. And suddenly you can breathe easier.
Maybe I’m getting sentimental in my old age, and maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but I always thought you and Beckett belonged together. Living in the house you’ve always loved. Looking out over the vineyard that was always meant to be my son’s. Raising a bunch of kids to pass it on to.
If my hunch is right, and you have indeed ended up together, lift a glass and drink to love—the only thing in this world worth fighting for.
Wishing you all the love and happiness your heart can hold,
Robert
P.S. If by some chance, my son didn’t get his head out of his ass and claim you as his own, he’s a goddamn idiot.
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