Page 101 of The Best Wild Idea
“But you did.”
“Yes, I did.” I frown.
“I wish you would have given me a chance to explain everything,” he says, resting his eyes. “I planned to show you the letter at some point, but reading something like that without knowing the entire story behind it? It would have left me feeling the same way. I can’t imagine what was going through your head, especially right after we—”
He opens his eyes again and raises his eyebrows, recalling what we did last night.
Making love to him feels like it happened weeks ago, considering everything we’ve been through since.
I nod. “You’re right. It was too easy to take everything out of context. But then I got Grant’s letter at the desk this morning.”
He narrows his eyes. “How did you get them to give it to you without me?”
I swallow miserably. “I told them that you had an accident and couldn’t be here to sign for it.”
He erupts in laughter, then winces. “God, Jules, the irony of that.”
A tear spills out the side of my eye and he wipes it away. “I know. I’m so sorry, it’s like I vocalized your fate before it happened. You have no idea how guilty I felt when I found out.”
He laughs even more, and I’m glad he’s not mad.
“No wonder no one looked surprised when I walked through the lobby looking like this,” he says.
“I’m the worst, I know,” I tell him, biting back a smile. “When will I learn?”
“Jules, I grounded your passport.I’mtechnically the worst,” he says, tapering off a laugh. “I’m sorry I did that, too. Trust takes time to build, and we’re both working it back up, I guess.”
I grin. “You should have seen my face at the airport when the poor woman had to tell me.”
“I bet Grant never saw the trip ending like this,” he says, his eyes suddenly more tired than they were just a moment ago.
“Actually, I’d just finished reading his last letter when I got all of Andy’s messages. Right before I rushed to see you at the hospital.”
He takes a deep breath and settles deeper into the pillows we propped up behind him.
“So Grant guessed that I’d be nearly run over after grounding your passport in Paris, eh? Boy, he did see us coming a mile away.”
I laugh. “No, but I can show it to you if you want. His letter sort of explained everything I needed to hear after accidentally reading your letter — how you initially said no to doing all this, and why.”
He exhales deeply, nodding. The room is dark except for the gas fireplace that has been turned on as part of the hotel’s turndown service and the illuminated view of the tower outside the window.
“What did it say?”
“That we need each other,” I tell him, quietly. “That neither one of us is perfect. That maybe I need you as much as you need me. That once upon a time, we were each other’s chosen family.” I pause before adding, “And that maybe we can be again.”
He reaches his uninjured hand to clasp mine, dwarfing my palm in his, lacing his fingers through each one of mine. I squeeze back, remembering what it felt like to get the call that he’d been in an accident today, and move a little closer to him on the bed.
“Grant was always so good with his words.” He stares at the fire, remembering. “Wise and mature past his years.”
I smile, remembering all the times Grant had given Silas or me advice that felt spot on. Various times his words made more sense than whatever chaos I’d created around myself onso many occasions. And now, knowing that these letters were Grant’s final collection of wisdom — nudging us back toward one another, his final gift to both of us months after he’s been gone — when he knew we could finally be in a place to receive it. He saw something that neither of us could see, that what we each needed could transpire long after he was laid to rest. Sitting here now, I know deep down that he was right.
“He said one more thing,” I add, inching closer to rest my head against his chest on the side of him that doesn’t have the sling. He wraps his good arm around me, shifting to make me more comfortable against him.
“What else?” he asks, as we stare at the view out the window.
“He said no matter what happened between us, whether we end as friends—” I pause — “or more, he’d be glad that we’d made our way back to each other again.”
Silas’ chest rises but doesn’t fall, holding his breath for a beat before letting it out in a long sigh.
