Page 45 of Keep This Promise
“Good. Are you heading to the youth center in the morning?”
“Yes,” I say, feeling a bit nervous. “I haven’t had a job in a long time. I’m excited to get to paint again, though.”
Holden walks toward the bed, stopping at the end and looking a bit hesitant. “Sophie, what was your last name when we met?”
The question stuns me a little. I’m not sure what to say. “I don’t know if I can tell you.”
“I believe you changed your name when you came here, you slipped up once,” he tells me honestly.
“I did.”
“I just wonder, if I’d asked you your last name the night we met, what would it have been?”
Had I told him my whole name back in Vegas when we’d met, he’d know what it was anyway, so I don’t see the harm in telling him now.
“Sophie Armstrong. That was my maiden name.”
“Thank you for telling me.”
“Honestly, there’s not much you don’t know at this point.”
“And anything you do tell me, I would never share.”
I believe him. Holden has every reason in the world to keep our secrets—Eden.
Holden walks over to me, crouching low. “I care about you both, and . . . as much as I hate how it happened, I’m happy you’re here.”
Cupping his face in my hand, I smile. “I feel the same. I wish it had been different, but at the same time, I don’t. Finding you and getting to spend this time together has meant a lot to me. You’ve been a wonderful friend and have allowed Eden and me to settle in quite nicely here.”
His lip quirks up into a grin. “Good.” He pauses before saying, “I should go.”
I nod, yet neither of us moves. There’s a shift in the air that’s filled with longing and tension. Him being in my room with my hand still cupping his cheek has suddenly become very intimate.
I wish I were braver and could kiss him. I wish I were the woman he met in Las Vegas who took what she wanted, but I am not that girl.
I look into his brown eyes, wishing I could read his thoughts and praying he can’t see mine.
Holden clears his throat and rises, my hand falling away. “Good night, Sophie.”
I watch him retreat to the door. “Good night, Holden.”
He doesn’t stop, and when I hear the door click, I lie back on my pillow, hearing the crunch of the letter. Pulling it out, I stare at my name written in Theo’s familiar scrawl. I may not be brave enough to kiss Holden, but I am definitely able to read this. I sit up and move my finger under the seal, trying to imagine when Theo wrote it and wishing he had just talked to me instead.
I carefully open it, pulling out the linen paper with the flourished P printed up top. I had this paper made for him when he closed his first deal. I smile at the memory because he had been so proud that he’d gotten his company off the ground without his father’s help.
His messy script fills the page, and I take two deep breaths and start to read.
My Dearest Sophie,
Goat Tacos are served daily in Heaven, just in case you didn’t know.
Forgiveness is also in abundance here—at least, that’s my hope because I know I need a lot of it. More than anything, I need it from you.
If you have this letter, then you’ve met the team of people who will do what I cannot since I am dead—protect you and Eden. I am going to assume that you followed the directions and are where I hoped you’d be. If you didn’t, then you wouldn’t have this letter, and I would be speaking to no one.
Since we are working on assumptions, then it’s most likely that you’ve cried, told me to fuck off, and spent no short amount of time angry, but I hope you will allow me this explanation and not destroy this letter before you’ve finished. I have reasons, and they are:
I am a selfish ass.
