Page 214 of Breaking Point
Engagement.
Wedding.
30thbirthday.
40thbirthday.
50thbirthday.
My grandbabies.
My passing.
For when you need my love.
For when you miss me.
For when you need a hug.
For when you’re pregnant.
For when you’re postpartum.
All the control in the world can’t stop the tears from freefalling down my cheeks.
“So she never had to say goodbye,” I whisper and smile.
Grayson’s hand lands on my back as he wraps me in his arms, careful not to touch the box. “She was writing every chance she could.”
“I can see that. Her hand must have cramped like crazy.”
Grayson snorts behind me. “I had to give her hand massages all the?—”
Spinning, my wide eyes lock on his. “You helped her?”
“Of course.”
My lip wobbles as new tears spring into my eyes. “Thank you.”
He lowers his head, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You never have to thank me for this.”
“I don’t even know where to begin. There’s so many.”
He rubs soothing circles along my back, his touch warming my skin. “Take your time.”
I flick through them, hoping and yet dreading that she wrote one for today. I pause once I see the big cursiveF, but I can’t bring myself to read the word.Funeral.It’s morbid to know my mom wrote a letter to me for this day.
How must she have felt? Knowing that death was coming for her and she couldn’t stop it?
Was she panicked? Or did she somehow find a way to feel peace before death claimed her soul?
I suppose the only one who will ever know for sure is her, and maybe Charlotte if she looked at her face as she passed. But I haven’t been able to bring myself to ask those questions yet. All it will accomplish is stretching out the wide hole in my heart from the guilt that I wasn’t there when she went and that I’ll never get to have my goodbye.
But at least my mom got hers.
Gently plucking the letter out of the box, I ask, “Can you stay with me? While I read it?”
“Of course. Whatever you need.”
