Page 135 of Nineteen Letters
I reach for my phone. I feel compelled to call Braxton, but I know he’s at work and I don’t want to disturb him. He’s the only one who can understand what I’m feeling. He lived through this as well.
Me: Hi. I just wanted to say thank you for telling me.
A few minutes pass before I get a reply.
Braxton: It’s something I thought you’d want to know. Are you okay?
Me: No. I feel like my heart is breaking all over again.
A few seconds later, I’m startled when my phone rings. “I’m sorry, Jem,” is the first thing he says. “I should have waited until I was around to give you the letter. I’m stuck in a meeting and I can’t leave.”
“It’s okay,” I reply, sniffling. “I didn’t expect you to. I just wanted to say thank you. I’ll be all right, honestly.”
I survived this tragedy once. I’m sure I will again. I’m just hurting … with good reason.
“I should be finished here in about half an hour. I’ll come straight over when I’m done. We can talk then.”
“You don’t have to come, Braxton, but thanks for offering.”
After ending the call, I wipe the tears from my face before opening the lid of my treasure box and tucking the ultrasound picture safely inside. I pick up the smaller envelope that housed the letter and find a small engagement-ring charm inside. Although my heart is still hurting, I smile. He also included something else in the parcel, which I took out next.
I draw in a sharp breath once I open the lid of the white velvet box and see my engagement ring housed inside. It looks shiny, like new, which makes me wonder if he had it cleaned before sending it to me.
I slide it onto my finger and admire my hand. It’s not overly big, but it’s beautiful. Though I’m pretty sure I would have loved a piece of wire if it was from him.
I leave the ring on my finger for the time being and lie down on my bed. Closing my eyes, I will my mind to remember …
“Did you remember to grab the tomatoes, babe?” I call out when I hear a door close in the distance.
I’m standing in a tiny kitchen I don’t recognise, stirring something on the stove. I peer into the pot … it looks like spaghetti sauce. Looking out towards the window on my right, I see a row of shells along the windowsill above the kitchen sink. I find myself smiling as I get lost in the ocean view beyond.
“Yes, I got the tomatoes.” I jump when a pair of strong hands slide around my waist.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see Braxton’s handsome face smiling back at me. His dark-blond hair is a tad longer than it was when I last saw him, and curls slightly at the ends. He plants a chaste kiss on my lips before letting me go.
I continue to stir the sauce as I watch him unpack the groceries onto the countertop. “Lettuce, cucumber, tomatoes, red onion and an avocado. Is that everything?”
There’s a sweet grin on his face as he turns towards me. My eyes zero in on the cute little indent on his cheek. I love that dimple.
“Yes, that’s everything I asked for,” I answer.
He looks down into the bag he’s still holding. “I also got these.”
He reaches in and pulls out a pair of tiny white socks with a pink trim around the band. Tears rise to my eyes when he holds them out towards me and I read the inscription on them:I love my mummy.
“Braxton, they’re so sweet,” I say, taking them out of his hands.
“And these,” he adds, pulling out another pair. They have a blue trim and say:I love my daddy.
I sniffle as I take both pairs of socks in my hands. “I love them so much. I still can’t believe we’re going to be parents.”
“You’re going to make the best mum, Jem,” he says, his eyes shining.
As he inches his face towards mine, I feel a hand softly skim over my hair. My eyes spring open with a start, and I find I’m no longer in the small kitchen, wrapped in his arms. I’m lying on my bed in my room at my parents’ house, and Braxton is sitting on the edge of the mattress, looking down at me. There’s a sweet grin on his face, and again I gravitate towards his dimple.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I must’ve fallen asleep.”
