Page 101 of Bad For Me (Rock Canyon, Idaho 5)

But knowing what he was thinking . . .

What if he remembered everything and described it? Told her he was sorry? Or worse, what if it led to more unanswered questions? Like, why he’d been too afraid to ask for help. Had his fear been worth betting their lives that he wasn’t sick?

Leaning forward with her elbows on her knees to steady them, she pulled out the one-page letter and read:

Calliope,

Somehow I imagined using your full name under different circumstances, like in our wedding vows. But calling you Callie feels like a privilege I’ve lost.

I can’t imagine what you must think of me, although I’ve tried. I imagine you hating me, wishing I were dead, that you’d never met me. I don’t blame you for any of it, and there is nothing I can say that will make it better. I know that.

I love you, Callie. I will always love you, even if you never forgive me. From the first time you looked at me as you twirled your hair around your finger, you were the girl that I saw myself spending the rest of my life with.

I was stupid and reckless. I thought I would get better, that I was just stressed. I swear, Callie, I would never have hurt you or your mom or put you at risk. I made a mistake. Please, forgive me. I will do anything.

Tristan

Callie’s eyes burned and her jaw hurt from being clenched so hard. He loved her? How dare he say that after everything he’d done?

His words echoed what Everett had said—that he’d known the minute that they were meant to be. Only with Everett, she knew he would have put her safety first. He would have sought treatment and help.

The next letter said exactly the same thing, except this time, he added in some details about his life in the institution, how much the medication was helping, and how much he missed her. She crushed that one into a ball and threw it across the room. On and on they went. Through fifteen months. Always telling her he loved her, that he was sorry, and that he was getting better.

After his release, the letters described some of the times he’d stalked her:

I know you don’t want to see me, but I need to see you. I need to know you’re okay. That you’re happy. I hate to see you destroying yourself the way your mom did. I saw you take shot after shot until you could barely stand, and I hate it. I know I did this, but I just wish I could remember.

Her skin crawled at the thought of him watching her get drunk. What if he’d approached her when she was shit-faced?

The next set of letters congratulated her on joining AA and getting her one-month chip. After that, they changed, focusing less on her and more on how he was trying to live his life. How he was trying to make up for what he’d done.

I volunteered at the local soup kitchen on Thanksgiving.

I spent Christmas Eve at the hospital, delivering Santa’s gifts to the pediatric ward.

I ran a 5K marathon to raise money for cystic fibrosis.

It didn’t matter how many good deeds he thought he was accomplishing. Did he really think that would just wipe the slate clean?

Finally, she was on the last letter, the one from just a few weeks ago.

Tearing it open, she sucked in her breath.

Calliope,

I don’t know if you are even reading these letters, but if you are, I hope you respond. I am living in Idaho now, but before you get the wrong idea, I didn’t do it because of you. I moved here for a job opportunity and am living in Boise with my fiancée, Madeline.

I have loved you since I was fifteen years old, and I always will. But I waited seven years for a letter, a phone call, anything to tell me that you’d forgiven me and that you could move past it and give me another chance. When I met Maddy earlier this year, I never imagined that I would find love again, but I have.

I had to move on and live my life. I deserve to be happy and so do you.

I hope to hear from you,

Tristan

White-hot rage pulsated through Callie’s body, building up inside until she was screaming out loud. Screaming until her lungs hurt. Screaming until she was hoarse.

He deserved happiness? He didn’t deserve anything! Why should he get a nice, cushy new life and love when he hadn’t even gone to prison for what he’d done to her mother? To Baby? To her!

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