Page 121 of Nineteen Letters
When the back of your legs connected with the mattress, I gently laid you down before settling over the top of you. As I gazed deeply into your big brown eyes, all my indecision vanished.
“I love you, Jemma Isabella Rosalie Robinson.”
“I love you too,” you replied as tears filled your eyes. “I love you so much sometimes my heart aches.”
That day, we gave ourselves to each other completely. Our bodies and hearts became one.
What we had is far too beautiful to be forgotten.
Yours always,
Braxton
I release a contented sigh as I refold the letter. I’m grateful that he was my first, and for all the trouble he went to making it so special. These letters make me see just how lucky I’ve been to have his love.
Taking the charms out of the envelope, I lay them out in the palm of my hand. Two hearts linked together, and a tiny plane. A smile forms on my lips as I stare down at them. Although we no longer live together as husband and wife, there’s a part of me that knows my heart still belongs to him.
Chapter 33
Braxton
“He seems happy here,” Jemma says, linking her arm through mine as we leave the nursing home and walk back to my car.
“Yeah, he does.”
“Do you feel sad leaving him? Because I do.”
“All the time,” I admit. “Some days are harder than others, but it’s never easy.”
“How come he never came to live with us?”
“We both had jobs and a mortgage to pay. And as much as we would have liked to have him with us rather than in a home, neither of us could afford to give up work and give him the full-time care he needed.”
“Life can be so unfair at times.”
“It can, but you need to make the most of what you’ve got, I suppose.”
“True.”
“Are you coping all right with the mortgage repayments without my income?”
“I’m doing okay.” I smile as I open her door. It was sweet of her to ask, but since our shopping centre deal, money no longer seems an issue. “That reminds me, the insurance cheque camefor your car a few days ago. I deposited it into your bank account, but it probably won’t clear until the end of the week.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not sure if you ever want to drive again, but the money is there if you decide to buy another car.”
“Am I still able to drive with my memory loss?”
“It’s something we’d have to look into. You may need to sit another test, or do some lessons.”
“I’m not sure if I’m ready for anything like that yet. I’m happy catching the bus. Besides, if I have to start from scratch, it could be dangerous.”
“Fair enough,” I say, chuckling. “You have me to chauffeur you around in the meantime.”
“I do.” She looks over at me and smiles. “Do you have any plans this weekend?”
“No. Why?”
