Page 98 of I'll Carry You

Jen considered Lindsay’s perspective, then scrunched her face up. “Fair point.” She shifted under the throw blanket, stretching her legs. She didn’t want to go anywhere, but she’d entered that damn baking competition, and if she’d won, it would change everything for her. But the idea of being there without Jason made her sad and nervous all at once. Especially because she didn’t know what to say when they asked why he wasn’t there. It was one thing to tell the producer that they’d split up. Quite another to tell the entire world. “Do you think I’ll be disqualified because Jason isn’t there?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, you did the contest as a couple. Tonight is just about seeing if you won, right?”

Except they hadn’t really been a couple. Though it had almost felt like it at one point. She groaned. Lindsay was right. She should probably start getting ready. The boat launch was at five. It was already two, and the producer wanted her there at three thirty.

The doorbell rang, and Jen got up for it. A man, close to her own height, with a trim beard and longish brown hair, stood there and turned toward her with a wide smile. “Hi, I’m TJ.” He held a box in his hands.

Jen frowned at him. “Can I help you?” He didn’t look like a deliveryman. His clothes were . . .unique.Bright orange pants were matched with a teal blue plaid top poking out from under his coat. Instead of snow boots, he appeared to be wearing camo galoshes. Snow accumulated on his hat.

He held the box out toward her. “This is for you. Merry Christmas.”

Jen took the box and then closed the door as he scooted away, leaving tracks in the snow on the front walk.

He stopped at the end of the walk, then turned back, cupping his hands around his mouth as though to speak.

Jen opened the door. “What is it?”

“He’s in town.” TJ shrugged, then stuffed his gloved hands into his pockets. “Just thought you might want to know.” He gave a quick wave, then turned away.

Who?

Staring at TJ’s fading form, she closed the door again, the snowy weather a stark contrast to the warmth of the living room.

She returned to her seat by the fireplace. The box wasn’t a delivery package, or at least didn’t appear to be. It wasn’t taped shut, but the four flaps of the lid had been folded shut.

Lindsay gave her an odd look. “What is it?”

Jen scanned the outside of the box for some clues. Not even one mark on the cardboard. “I have no idea.” She moved to open it.

Lindsay’s hand shot out. “What if it’s like a trick package? It could be poison or a bomb or something.”

Shooting her a laughing gaze, Jen shook her head. “You watch way too much true crime TV.”

“There’s no such thing,” Lindsay defended.

Jen opened the package under her protest. Several manila envelopes and a few thumb drives were inside. And on the top, a single sheet of paper, folded in two.

She opened the paper, her eyes skipping to the name at the bottom.

Jason.

Her heart gave a painful thump. She swallowed, turning away from Lindsay. Jason’s handwriting was printed neatly with thick, bold, and masculine handwriting.

Dear Jen,

There will never be a way for me to make up to you for what I did by not being honest about everything from the start. This is the truth:

I love you. I know it’s crazy to think that you can fall in love with someone after a few weeks, and if you had asked me when we met if I thought it was possible, I would have laughed. But then I met you and you changed my whole world.

And I love Colby. He and Mildred are literally the only family I have left. When I look at him, I think of the Kevin I knew as a kid—and how much my brother missed with the decisions he made.

I can’t give back to you what we lost with my dishonesty. I’m not asking for another chance because I know I don’t deserve one. Turns out, I’m going to be a father, and that’s made me realize, more than ever, that my actions don’t exist in a vacuum. I earned the consequences here.

My ex mentioned to you she had footage of our time together. I didn’t want you to ever worry about that coming to light, so I asked her to please allow me to purchase it from the PI her family hired. To make peace and move toward a better future as divorced co-parents, she’s agreed. He’s signed an agreement and turned everything over to me. This is all of it. There are no other copies. That’s all in the envelope that’s marked with a one.

And this may be stupid, but I included everything else he had on me in the second envelope. All my secrets are there, everything I’m most ashamed of. Not that I really want you to see all my bad decisions. But you wanted to know who I am. So it’s there, in your hands, if you ever wanted to know more about the man you spent two weeks with.

Those weeks were the best two weeks of my life. I don’t know if this is all stupid, or if this will atone at all, but I’m sorry, Jen. I wish I could take it all back, but then I’d also have missed that time with you. And I will never regret the moments I spent with you and Colby.

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