“Carter came by earlier.” He doesn’t sugarcoat it as if he knows that ripping the Band-Aid off is the easier option.

The simple mention of his name makes me feel lightheaded. I thought that was better with the new pills, but guess I was wrong.Wobbly, I lean back against the wall, pretending I’m just making myself comfortable.

“What for?” I get myself to ask.

“He wanted me to give you this,” he says, “and didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by going to you directly.”

I wait with my stomach in my throat as Finn hands me a tall envelope. It feels heavy in my hands, and even though I have an inkling of what it might be, it feels like time stops when I open it and see the divorce papers I handed him days before. I can’t feel the wind on my face, can’t smell the petrichor from the earlier rain, can’t see Finn standing next to me, a hand on my shoulder.

I should not be shocked by this. I gave him those papers. Iwantedhim to sign them.

Or did I?

As I pull the documents out of their folder, something slips out. I bend to pick it up, the paper moist under my fingers from the wet cement.

An envelope with my name in his calligraphy. Neat, precise.

I clutch it tightly, forgetting about the documents I can see have been signed.

“I’m really sorry,” Finn says.

I nod.

“You want me to stay with you for a while?”

“I’m good,” I say. “But thanks for coming all the way for this.”

“Of course.” He hugs me, then begins walking in the direction of his truck. Meanwhile, I remain in place, gaze stuck on the eightletters of my name, never having looked as good as they do in his writing.

“Hey, Lil?”

I look up.

“If it makes you feel any better, he looked devastated handing those to me.”

That doesn’t make me feel better. Not at all.

When Finn has disappeared from view, I let myself slide against the wall to the ground, wetness seeping through my jeans, but I couldn’t care less. Not when my mind feels like it’s been doused in gasoline before stumbling into an inferno.

I only hesitate for a second before I tear the envelope and unfold the paper, breath catching when I see an entire page of his writing.

Lilianne,

First off, I want to start by saying that signing those papers damn near killed me. It makes me sick to think that this might be where it all ends, and I truly hope you’ll never use them, at least until you’ve found another way to get insurance. However, after staring at these for days, I realized it wasn’t my place to keep you from doing what you needed to. So if divorcing me is what you want, here. You can do so now.

But if this is really the end, I wanted to make sure you knew certain things. I’m not a man of many words, something you know already, but I’ll try my best to show you what I’m thinking.

Those months we spent together were the best of my entire life.

Something breaks inside me at those words. The pain is physical, visceral, as if someone is carving those words into my skin.

None of the money and the fame, the shows and the parties, could’ve compared to how it felt to lie on the couch with you, watching you watch a movie, seeing all sorts of expressions move your beautiful face. Even if I never get more, those moments will remain with me forever.

When I learned you were Frank’s daughter, I couldn’t believe it, at first, how fucking small of a world could we live in for you to beher? That girl I’d heard so much about but had never met? It made no sense. But then I got to know you, and I wondered how I could have missed it in the first place. You were just like him. You had his humor, his wit, his glass-half-full way of living. You didn’t tolerate my shit, and as hard-headed as you could be, you were also the kindest, loveliest person I’d met since spending time with him. And just like I loved Frank, I couldn’t help but love you, too.

I taste salt from my tears, and even though his words hurt, they also unscramble some of my thoughts. He did know him. At first, it almost felt like I’d imagined it, like Carter and Dad knowing each other was an impossible thing I could only have seen in a sleepy haze, but reading this… Heknewhim.

Marrying you was the best mistake I ever made. It ruined me for the rest of my life, but it also made me see I had a life to begin with. You made a man who hadn’t laughed in years start to dream again.