Page 91 of Hold You Close
“She was hurt,” Morgan says, putting a hand over her heart. “You crushed her. But you don’t have to do it again.”
“I know Aunt London pretty well,” Christopher puts in. “And I think, more than anything, she’d hate that you’re making this decision for her. You should at least tell her the truth and let her decide.”
I bury my face in my hands and rub my tired eyes. My head has started to pound. When will this fucking day be over? And why is doing the right thing so damn exhausting?
Next thing I know, a hand is rubbing my back. “Stop being so stubborn, Uncle Ian,” Morgan says softly. “You love her. Tell her that. Fight for her this time.”
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “I’ll think about it. Go to bed now.”
They head out, but a second later, Morgan’s head pops into the doorway again. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Eli Walsh is moving in.”
“Who the hell is Eli Walsh?”
She rolls her eyes at me, looking so much like my sister it’s eerie. “Aunt London’s cat. Jeez, get a clue already.”
Then she’s gone. I turn off the light, undress, and crawl beneath the covers.
All night I fight with myself about going to her house, begging her to stay, to forgive me. I lie there in agony, going over everything I said to her, everything Morgan and Chris said to me.
You love her. Tell her that. Fight for her this time.
At some point I can’t take it anymore, and I march to the back door, ready to grovel, but I see her through my windows and stop.
She’s standing on her deck in the moonlight, so beautiful I can hardly breathe. Her long brown hair is up in a ponytail, and she’s wearing only a white T-shirt, her long legs bare beneath it. She’s looking at my house. I know she can’t possibly see me, but it feels like she can. I watch her watching me, then I see her wipe her cheek and walk away.
I start to go to her, but then I hear my nephew’s words about not deserving her, and my chicken-shit ass freezes right where I am, in my house, wishing I was a better man.
Miserable, I walk back to bed and flop onto it, but still sleep doesn’t come. Around four-thirty, I give up and jump in the shower. When I head back into my room, my eye catches the letter from Sabrina sitting there on my nightstand. Instead of putting it off anymore, I tear it open, ready for her, too, to say something I don’t feel like hearing.
My dumbest brother Ian,
This is probably the hardest letter to write because there’s so much to say. First, if you’re reading this, both David and I are gone. I’m sure this was hard on you because I’m pretty freaking awesome. You can cry now . . . I’ll wait . . .
Done yet?
Glad you got that out. Second, you are now in charge of my children’s wellbeing. Don’t fuck that up, big bro.
Christopher is a good kid, but he’s not good at showing emotion. Watch him, please. Make sure he knows that feelings aren’t bad, it’s how you handle them. Give him a lot of guidance in the girl department too, his father doesn’t exactly know “the moves.” Lord knows you sure have that part down.
Morgan . . . I don’t know what to tell you about her because she’ll let you know exactly what she thinks. To be honest, that girl scares me a little. Be sure she stays away from guys like you. (Not to be mean, but let’s be real, you’re a heartbreaker.) However, she won’t listen—because she’s Morgan, so make sure that you’re there to pick her up off the ground when she has her first heartbreak. I don’t have to tell you that it’s a pretty dramatic thing for a girl.
Ruby, my sweet little precious jewel. She’s so little, and I worry that this letter will come too soon and she’ll never know how much I loved her. I worry losing her parents will shape her in a way we’ll never be able to understand. I think about all the things she will need her mother for and I won’t be there. Please tell her about us. Show her photos, remind her that I wanted her more than anything.
You may wonder why you got them and not Mom and Dad. Well, it’s because I know you. You have the greatest capacity for love. You’re a kind, protective, and giving man, Ian. No matter what you try to tell yourself. There is no one in this world who has a greater opinion of you than me. I’ve been on the receiving end of your big heart. I’ll never forget how you were always the shoulder I cried on when someone hurt me. So, now I want you to do the same for my children.
Finally, I want you to get your head out of your big ass and go to London. Tell her you love her. Tell her you were a stupid idiot who was young and thought you knew what she needed more than she did.
You don’t know what she needs! She does. You love her, Ian. I know this in the depths of my soul, and guess what? She loves you too. She’ll never admit that because you’re a jerk, but she does.
Now that I’ve bestowed all my wisdom, I’m going to dry my eyes and pray you never read this. I love you.
Love,
The best sister in the entire world. You’re welcome.
A tear rollsdown my face as I smile. My sister was an asshole, but I loved her. And sure enough, my sister dispensed advice I didn’t want to hear.
But instead of making me feel worse, it makes me feel a little better. Sabrina saw something in me. She knew in her heart I was capable of being the person the kids would need. She knew I would love and protect them forever. And maybe if London hadn’t gotten that offer, Sabrina would have been right about us, too.
