Page 29 of The Winslow Brothers

“Char, it’s me. I don’t know what’s going on, but none of us know where you are. Please, call one of us back. Let me know you’re safe, Char. I’m getting really fucking worried, baby.” My voice cracks on the endearment, and Flynn’s hand comes down on my shoulder and clasps it tightly.

I hang up the phone and sink my head into my hands, falling to my knees on the floor.

Tears threaten in the corners of my eyes, and my lips shake with the effort to keep myself from roaring a holy rage so loud this place would crumble to the ground.

My heart pounds and my ears ring with the extra blood pressure, and all the other sounds of the room disappear.

I honestly don’t even know how long I’m like that before Ty squats down in front of me, a pretty pink envelope in his hand.

It’s Charlotte’s stationery. Thanks to the dozens of thank-you cards she made me help her write after her bridal shower, I recognize it instantly.

“Winnie found a note in Charlotte’s bag,” Ty whispers softly, holding it against his chest. “It’s addressed to you.”

I hold out a hand, and Ty takes a deep breath before flipping the envelope around and laying it there.

Immediately, I shove to my feet and carry the envelope across the room, ripping into it in a way that scatters the shreds all over the floor when I pull the letter free.

It’s folded in thirds and sealed with one of the tiny, gold-flecked heart stickers that she keeps on her desk. I know without a shadow of a fucking doubt, whatever’s inside this letter came right from Charlotte herself.

Unfolding it quickly, I flip it right side up and start to read. Her penmanship is neat and delicate, each of the words she’s placed on the page deliberate.

Remy,

If you’re reading this, you must know by now that I’m gone. The truth is, I wasn’t sure I was going to follow through with it until now.

I sent this note with Ivy and Harper, hidden in my bag, so that if I changed my mind, I’d be able to meet you at the altar as planned. But I know with certainty now, I’m doing the right thing.

I’m taking the job in California, and I’m going to move there on my own.

I know it’s an asshole move to do it this way, and I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I wish I were brave enough to come and say all of this to your face. But Idolove you, Rem, and because of that, I know I’m doing what’s best for the both of us by parting this way.

It’s also why I have to tell you this way.

You made it pretty clear last night that having both you and California wasn’t an option, and I could not in good conscience enter into a marriage with you that I knew I would grow to resent. And I couldn’t give you the chance to say words I know you don’t mean—words that would color the picture of our relationship, and my memories of you, forever.

I don’t know, maybe I’m just scared, and I’m a coward to run away like this, but Remy, one day, you’re going to understand. I know you will.

So fucking sick to my stomach I can’t read any more, I let my arm drop to my side and stare straight ahead.

“She’s not coming,” I say simply, my voice flat even to my own ears.

“What?” Jude breathes audibly. “Why the hell not?”

I can’t believe she’s not fucking coming.In some twisted, fucked-up way, the pain feels compounded, like the wound ofher leaving is layered directly on top of the one my fucking father already inflicted.

So angry I can hardly breathe—at her, at myself, at my dad, at the fucking world—I pick up the crystal vase from the table beside me and throw it across the room, watching as it shatters against the wall.

With quick, methodical strokes, I rip the letter she penned into tiny, minuscule pieces and watch as they flutter to the floor. Right along with the remnants of my heart.

Fuck. Love.

It was shit for my mom, and clearly, it’s shit for me. I’m never,everputting myself through this again.

Flynn

Crack!

A second vase flies out of Remy’s hand and smacks against the wall.

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