Page 80 of The Last Time

As magical as it was, we never actually talked about the fight afterward. He seems to want to ignore the entire thing.

I think it’s because he doesn’t want to tell me what had him so worked up. He doesn’t want to tell me why he can no longer trust anyone.

Part of me wants to push him on it, but another part is terrified to. I don’t want what we have to end right now, and I can see him walking away if I push too hard.

Though, we haven’t talked about what happens when I go home in four weeks. The end of summer is getting closer. With each day that passes, the pressure to have a discussion with Asher about us grows stronger.

The doorbell rings, pulling me out of my glum train of thought. The only person who stops by without notice is Asher.

When I open the door, a delivery man is standing there with a large envelope tucked under his arm.

“Are you Charlotte Bates?” the gentleman asks.

“I am.”

“Sign here, please,” he says as he hands me a clipboard. “This is an overnight delivery from Howard Hart.”

That’s my father’s attorney. I sign the pad in front of me and then take the envelope. “Thank you,” I tell him before I close the door.

It’s probably some additional papers regarding the house.

I tear open the envelope to see a handwritten note on a yellow piece of paper.

Charlotte,

I was going through your father’s files and came across this letter he wrote to you. I’m terribly sorry that it got lost in the mix.

Sincerely,

Howard Hart

My trembling hand reaches inside to find a smaller white envelope. My name is written in cursive on the front in my father’s handwriting.

I don’t know if I have the courage to read his words.

Since it’s lunchtime, I shut my laptop and walk outside onto the deck. My nerves are so active that they feel tingly all over my body. If I’m going to read this, I at least need to be in my happy place.

I take a seat on the cushioned couch and fold my legs underneath each other.

Then I open the envelope and unfold the papers, which are handwritten as well. Just seeing his handwriting like this makes my chest fill with overwhelming emotions.

Charlotte,

If you’re reading this, I can only assume I’m gone, and we’ve never had a chance to reconnect.

As I sit here in my office thinking about what to say, I’m transported back to when you were little, as I often find myself thinking about.

I think about the first time you walked into my arms. The feeling that is evoked was pure pride and joy. Feeling the warmth of your love wrapped around me was the most content I've ever felt.

There were many firsts I got to experience of yours throughout your life, each one made my heart feel so full.

But the sad truth is, there were many firsts that I missed out on. From graduating college to your first job, your first apartment, first love.

I watched from afar, looking at your social media pages.

I was never not there with you, following in your successes along the way.

But I am a weak man. I didn’t know how to be a husband to Penelope and a father to you.

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