Page 34 of Hunter

Another Christmas without you, and still, the ache has not lessened.

When we married, I imagined a life so different from this.

I hoped for days spent in each other’s arms as our children swarmed around our feet. Sunday mornings, we would be tangled in bed, watching family movies and talking about our dreams. Our summers spent traveling the world, tasting freedom the way we were never allowed to.

I wanted so much for us, Bella. I wanted to build a world where our children would never know the weight we were forced to carry, where they would grow unburdened, untouched by the darkness that shaped us.

I wanted us.

With each passing year, I find myself slipping further into the darkness. My life was always complex, disturbed even, but what scares me now is how familiar it has become—how welcoming the darkness is. Without the possibility of you, it is where I want to be.

I tell myself this distance is for the best. That you deserve a life untainted; some days, I even believe it. But on nights like this, when the world is quiet, and the memories are loud, all I want is you.

I hope you are living the best life I can help provide. Some days, I am thankful for the situation, as you are too bright to be with me.

Merry Christmas, Bella.

Love always

Hunter xxx

Tears stream down my cheeks as I read his words over and over. One letter has caused so much emotion to surge through my body that I don’t know if I can read the rest. These words were written a few years after our wedding; our separation was the norm. But I can sense his pain emanating from the page as if it were written yesterday. Truth from a broken man with a broken heart.

Slowly, I work my way through the letters on the bed. Each one waits patiently to be opened and divulge its secrets. Not every note is as heartfelt as the first. Some are more like diary entries, where he tells me about his day and the challenges he faced. Others are terrifying, where he retells stories of business deals gone wrong and details of the dark world he lives in.

My Darling Isabella,

Today, I don’t expect to see tomorrow.

A man angry at lost money is a dangerous one. A tyrant with a gun who has lost everything he risked even more so. It is even more terrifying when that man is your father.

I blink at the words on the page, returning and rereading to ensure I understood. Hunter admits to being afraid of his father, the man who contributed to the demise of our relationship alongside my own parent. The letter is dated October 12, 2012. Something about that is familiar, but the reason doesn’t come to mind, so I continue reading.

My deal went wrong—the one I spoke of with the stock broker on Lombard Street. It turns out he was a snake, selling double information, and we were the buyers sting. We’ve lost thousands, millions even. I haven’t been able to calculate the damage my decisions caused, and part of me doesn’t want to.

Father has summoned me to his office. Fuck knows what retribution he will want in return for my poor decision-making. I’m scared, Bella. I’ve felt his wrath before, but never have I been at the center of the disaster as I am now. Men have died for less on his command. If he takes my life tonight, I will wait for you on the other side.

Always Yours,

Hunter xxx

I reach for my phone, flicking to my calendar, and the date is October twelfth. After staring at it for a few minutes, I try to remember why it is so important. The realization doesn’t come, and I return to the letters. The next one I choose is shorter than the others, only a few lines and dated the day after the preceding one.

My Darling Bella,

I have done both my worst and most extraordinary deed.

He is gone.

The bastard who broke us rots in a watery grave, and I feel nothing but peace.

No guilt. No regret.

Only the weight of years lifting as my blade silenced him forever.

My father is dead by my hand.

In some way, however small, I hope you find solace in knowing he is no more.

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