Page 26 of Unleash You

The clank of a teacup and saucer stopped my mind from spiraling out of control. Tullie stood in the middle of the great hall with a tray in her hands. “I thought you could use some tea.”

“I need something way stronger.”

“I know.” She winked at me. Tullie had been hanging out with Lilly way too much.

I drank from the delicate china cup and waited for the bourbon to work its magic. Before the burn subsided at the pit of my stomach, an idea popped into my head. I would bet I could prove Wesley didn’t write those letters. He just had access to Charlie’s personal effects. If he could get his hands on all my millions, he definitely could also rifle through my brother’s mail.

“It’s been a long day. I’m going to turn in.” I grabbed the tray. “Thanks for the tea.”

“Let me help you with that.”

“No. I got it. Good night.”

“Good night.” She offered me a warm smile. I believed Wesley when he said Tullie and Will were loyal to me. I needed them.

I climbed the grand staircase as fast as I could while balancing a tray service and keeping my long gown away from my spiky heels. As soon as I reached the master suite, I removed my shoes and dress. I tossed them on an upholstered chair, which matched the brand-new silk wallpaper and the new furnishings. The golds and blues were the complete opposite of what Mom had before. I changed it all the first week I was here. It hurt too much to be surrounded by her things, so I moved everything to a different room on the lower level.

Not that swapping a bed or a sofa would make me forget them or change the fact that they were gone. Nothing could. I glared at the gown and the delicate capped sleeves.

A few hours ago, I thought this little number would get me what I wanted. That it would show everyone I wasn’t a little girl anymore...Sweet Ana. I had hoped Wesley would look at me differently. What a joke.

I donned my pink pajamas, feeling a little more like myself, and went looking for the hatbox in the back of my closet. My heart beat fast as I dropped Charlie’s letters on my bed. For the most part, the rooms upstairs tended to be cooler, but not tonight. I drank more of the bourbon and padded my way to the patio to open the french doors and let some fresh air in.

When my parents were still alive, I liked coming to this room to spy on the boys playing in the gardens below. Even now, I could hear the laughter and music from the engagement party permeating through the trees and mixing in with the warm breeze.

I ambled back to the strewn letters and picked one at random. In a flash, all the memories came rushing back, specific details, pictures, and so many shared secrets.

Dear Anabelle,

Thank you for the music you sent. I listen to it every night. It calms me, you know. Out here, it seems we always need to be on. It’s tiring, not just on the body, but the soul. My favorite tune is “Wesley’s Requiem.” That guy doesn’t deserve you, Bells. You’re too pretty and he’s a big grouch who doesn’t know how to have fun anymore.

Anyway, how are your classes this semester? Have you composed anything else lately? Write soon.

Love,

C

Love, C? Cole? Was that how he got around the lie? By signing the initial of his last name? I hugged the letter to my chest and let the tears stream down my cheeks. Finding music again was how I’d gotten over my depression that year. Charlie (Wesley?) encouraged me to keep at it and keep composing. He fueled my inspiration. Because of him, I didn’t stop playing.

I scoured the pile for the letter before this one when I told Wesley about the anniversary of mom’s death and how sad that made me. He didn’t judge me that day. Instead, he reminded me that it was okay to miss her. That it was okay to feel the way I felt.

With a quick swipe of my cheek, I added that piece of paper to the one clutched to my chest. The wet on my fingers seeped through and smudged the faded ink. For the first six years, all my letters to Charlie had tears on them.

My chest tightened at the idea that if Wesley had never answered me, my life would’ve turned out so differently. Because of him, I had the courage to meet people and take chances on new experiences. My college life had been normal and fun because I knew I had someone at home who loved me.

I repeated the process several more times. Page after page, I droned on about my classes, new friends, and even the one boy who reminded me of Wesley. In every one of his letters, Wesley made me feel loved, like I mattered, like he needed me too.

Was there any chance this could be Charlie? I couldn’t tell because even if I looked at the years when we were happy, my brother only treated me like a baby sister. He had no reason to speak to me like an adult, a friend. So what was more impossible to believe? That Charlie got over all his pain and decided he wanted to be my friend or that Wesley took pity on me?

I sobbed. Did Wesley rob me of the opportunity to make things right with my brother? What if Charlie just needed one more year to forgive me? What if he’d seen my letters after my freshman year?

Both options hurt like hell. It felt like losing Charlie all over again. It also felt like my best friend had betrayed me. I dropped my head in my hands. Wesley was my best friend, the one who kept me going for the past three years. I came home looking for him, for family.

What now? I still had to find my brother. I refused to believe that after all these years he still hated me. Before I had time to think it through, I poured more tea, knocked it back, and got dressed in record time. Wesley was right. Our conversation wasn’t over.

Downstairs, the house was quiet and dark. Tullie had already gone to bed. I was glad. I didn’t feel like explaining why I was leaving the house in the middle of the night. The door through the kitchen led to the gardens that faced the Cole estate. I picked my way through the creek and smiled when I pushed the old gate open and it creaked and moaned in protest.

Dead branches and dry grass crunched under my sneakers as I made my way through the wooded area surrounding the estate’s English gardens, an addition Lilly had been working on for the past two years as a favor to Derek. She’d even talked me into going on a trip to Italy to help her find a small shop that still made an Italian marble tile that had been discontinued in the States. My cheeks burned hot thinking about all my letters to Wesley telling him about our trip, all the silly details, all the stupid carabiniere jokes.

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