Page 7 of Loving London

Closing my eyes, I pull air into my lungs. Releasing the air in a controlled breath, I open my eyes to confront my inbox.

And there they are…

Message after message.

Most are from London. Some are from Maggie. Others are from Sarah. As I scroll down the screen, there’s a random email here or there from a brother in my unit. I’m sure, they’re checking in on me.

But…the majority is from London.

I start at the bottom, opening the oldest message, which happens to be from London.

To: Loïc Berkeley

From: London Wright

Subject: I’m so sorry.

Loïc,

I just heard about Cooper. I don’t know what else to say besides I’m so, so very sorry. I wish I had something to say to make this better, but I know nothing will. I wish more than anything that it hadn’t happened. I wish that you didn’t have to go through the pain that I know you are feeling. I wish you were here right now, so I could hold you.

I love you, Loïc. We are going to get through this. You are going to get through this.

Please write when you can. I hate that I can’t be with you right now.

Are they going to let you come home for the funeral?

I’m sorry. I wish I had something better to say that would help you, but I’m at a loss. All I know is that, as horrible as this is…we will get through it, Loïc. It won’t always hurt this much.

I love you.

I’m sorry.

I’m so very sorry.

Love,

London

And I open another.

To: Loïc Berkeley

From: London Wright

Subject: Please call me.

Loïc,

I’m so sorry about Cooper, and I’m so worried about you. Please call me. We can get through this. You can get through this. Talk to me.

I love you.

Love,

London

And another.

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