Page 67 of Hold You Close
“With Uncle Ian.”
I’m totally not getting through to her.
“You never know,” I say softly. My heart aches a little as I remember how I felt like that about him once before. Ian was the prince of my dreams. I would’ve done anything for him to love me.
“I love you, Auntie London.”
I shake my head, pushing those thoughts from my head, and look back down at her. “I love you with my whole heart.”
“And Uncle Ian too.”
I laugh, knowing I’m totally going to lose this one to her. He’s her hero and he should stay that way—always. “Goodnight, pipsqueak.”
I tiptoe out of her room and check on the older kids. Chris is watching television and Morgan is creating the perfect Instagram photo, whatever that means. Much to my surprise, there’s not much to do around here. The laundry is done, dishes are clean, and everyone is functioning.
Well, I guess I’ll watch television . . .
My butt hits the couch and I realize how freaking exhausted I am. This weekend was crazy and I haven’t slept at all. I lean my head back and try to absorb all that happened today. Ian was so sweet. He went above and beyond to do something nice for me, and I appreciated it, but it was nothing compared to him asking me to stay.
There’s nothing on worth watching, so I grab my laptop from my bag beside me, and decide to do something to help me assemble my thoughts—I write. It’s been a long time since I’ve journaled, but as soon as I open everything, I know who I want to write to and what I have to say.
I open my email, and begin to type.
Dear Sabrina,
You’re gone. You’re gone and my life isn’t remotely the same. You gave Ian the kids, didn’t see that one coming, but they’re doing good. Thanks for the letter sort of explaining it. You really should’ve, you know, talked to me. I would’ve understood or at least bitched for a bit, tried to talk you out of it—okay, so maybe I do get why you didn’t tell me.
Anyway, losing you has been hard on all of us. Ruby wouldn’t speak—well, to anyone but me. Now, she’s back to her bubbly self. Morgan is doing great, she’s full of piss and vinegar. Chris had a hard time, but Ian helped him through.
Me? I’m struggling with everything, and I miss you. I want to open a bottle of wine and have you come over. I’ve been so alone since I lost you. So alone. Well, I guess I should say that I was. I felt like there was no way out of the pain of losing you, but then your stupid brother broke me down. I don’t know how the hell it happened, but here I am, in his house, about to go to his bed.
Yup.
His freaking bed. As if the first go around didn’t end in disaster, right? I know, I know, he’s not the same kid he was. I hear you loud and freaking clear, but . . . he’s . . . Ian. He’s the guy that somehow always gets to me.
God, Sab, today he was that charming guy all over again. The guy who made my heart race and all I wanted was to be with him. I think I need to let go of all the past and forgive him. I should see him for who he is now, and that’s the guy who, despite all my hate, has made me feel . . . different.
I’ll say this to you because you’re the only person I trust. I could fall in love with him so easily, but I won’t. I can’t, right? It would be stupid because we’ll never work.
Okay, I lied to you and I can’t do that. I’m going to fall in love with him because he’s Ian and I’ve always loved him.
Damn it.
Oh, and since you’ll never read this I can tell you all the details. We had sex. We had really, hot, sweaty, dirty sex. We did it in bed and then against the wall. Like, the sex you read about in the romance novels. Which I kept, by the way. I figure if you love that Jack Valentini guy so much, I’ll read it and maybe torture Ian with how hot he is. We both know how much he loved it when you told him the stories.
I love you. I miss you. I think about you every day.
Love,
London
“Aunt London,”Morgan’s voice says in my ear.
Shit.
I close the laptop, hoping she didn’t read over my shoulder. Especially since I wrote about dirty sex.
“Yes?”
