Page 64 of Hate the One You're With
“You read it?”
He shakes his head. “Nope, why don’t we read it together?”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Mr. Cunningham,
Am I addressing you correctly? I’ve never really bothered to look up the proper way to address a Navy SEAL. But from what I’ve gathered, you’re now retired and running some high-intelligence security company with your merry band of hellions. Impressive.
You’re probably wondering why I’m writing to you and why I needed to check up on what you’ve been doing these days. Well, here’s the thing—I’m sick. And not the kind where a bit of rest and chicken soup will do the trick. I’m talking about the “I’ll probably die any day now” kind. Poor Em, bless her heart, still thinks we’ll find a cure. Spoiler alert: we won’t. The doctors—yes, multiple—say I’ve got months, maybe a year, if I follow their tedious instructions.
Now, while I’d love to throw caution to the wind and spend my remaining time doing whatever the hell I want, I’m following those directions—for Em’s sake. But here’s the catch: once I’m gone, she’s going to need someone. This is where you come in, hopefully. She doesn’t needrescuing, just someone to love her. And I know I royally messed up by driving you away.
You reminded me so much of Charles. Obviously, you weren’t him, but by the time I figured that out, it was too late, wasn’t it?
That’s why I fought tooth and nail to drive you two apart. You might think of ways it could’ve been avoided, but I wasn’t going to stop, Mr. Cunningham. I was dead set on having you leave her, and I would’ve done anything to see it happen. And I did. For a moment, it felt great—until I saw how much I had hurt her. I honestly thought the heartache would fade, but it didn’t.
Of everything I’ve done in my life—and I’ve done a lot—that’s the one thing I’ll regret the most.
So, if you still love my granddaughter the way I once thought you did, consider this your chance to make things right. I might’ve done some things to force you two together. She might hate me for it, but hopefully, it’ll be what she needs to find happiness.
If you don’t, then give her freedom and everything back. Percival knows where the bank’s safe is—inside, you’ll find the key to what my dear, twisted friend called “the ultimate evil plan.” You’ll know what to do with it. Then, get a divorce, and I’ll pray (likely from hell) that she finds the love and family she’s always wanted.
Again, I’m sorry for meddling in your life and potentially ruining what could’ve been a fairy-tale ending. She really did love you, you know. I just didn’t see it back then.
Best,
Gertrude Langley
Chapter Forty
Emmersyn
I’m laughingand crying at the same time. “This is why I love and hate her so much,” I manage to say through my tears. “She was like a mama bear and would kill to protect her cubs.”
“Did she ever, you know, killed anyone?” Cal asks, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity anda little fear.
I chuckle, wiping my eyes. “Not that I know of, but if I ever found out she did, I’d totally believe it.”
Before he can say anything, the pilot’s voice crackles over the intercom, reminding us to get ready for landing. We exchange a quick look, and then begin buckling our seat belts and gathering our things, the playful banter slipping away as the reality of our destination looms closer.
The plane begins its descent. As the wheels touch down, I take a deep breath, unsure of what I want to happen next. This still leaves me and my future in the hands of a man deciding for me—again. I hate it, and I’ll never understand why my grandmother couldn’t get it. It’s probably the internalized misogyny.
I’m on the verge of telling Caleb to go fuck himself, to leave everything behind and pray that the people who depend on me manage to land on their feet. Yet, I’m not that selfish, and I’m pretty sure my grandmother was counting on that. Oh, how I hate that shrew right now. She’s probably down in hell making deals and out-negotiating Satan himself.
When we land, Caleb helps me down from the plane, his hand steadying me as I step onto the tarmac. To my surprise, Logan is already waiting by the car.
“Who called Logan?” I frown. “I didn’t tell Jane I was coming back.”
“My people,” Caleb replies casually. “He’s coordinating with my guys now since . . . well, he’s your driver.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I’m old enough to know he’s my bodyguard, Cal. You don’t have to treat me like a child.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Huh, I always wonderedwhen you’d figure that out. Thought maybe you’d get rid of him.”
“It was during my senior year of college. Grandma took the plane somewhere so I had to fly commercial,” I explain as we walk toward the car. “I was heading to Cozumel for spring break, and Logan had to disclose he was carrying a concealed weapon. It turned into a whole drama. I tried to fire him, but Grandma told me they’d just hire someone else. Obviously, I was bluffing. He’s Logan, my friend and sometimes confidant.”
Caleb nods as he hands our bags to Logan, who takes them without a word. I watch as Caleb pulls out his phone, dialing quickly. He’s not saying much, but I catch the name “Percival” and something about a safe.
