Page 138 of Cherry Beats

“I’m mad how people you love the most are more often than not the ones who end up hurting you more than any stranger ever could. I’m mad that it’s easier for people to believe the bad than the good. And, hell,” he sighed, his voice dropping lower. “I’m mad that people can question a guy like my nephew, when deep down, every one of us knows he’s the purest fucking human being alive. We just hate that we’ll never be like him. We hate we can’t see the world through his eyes. We hate we’ll neverbehim. For that, he has to pay the price.”

“Dex, please—”

“Seeya, Cherry. I really hope it’s not the last time we cross paths. If it is, I’ll remember you fondly.”

Dex left, disappearing down the corridor, leaving me standing there with a box in my hand and my heart more confused than ever before.

“I think I just fell in love with an older man,” Molly whispered behind me.

And I think I’ve fucked things up with his nephew.

Glancing down at the smooth white box in my hands, I turned and made my way to the sofa, placing it down carefully as I heard the door shut after Molly closed it.

She came to sit on the same sofa, the two of us on either side of the box.

“What do you think it is? Hair straighteners? A box of Tic Tacs you left behind?”

“I left in a rush. It could be anything.”

“Open it.”

I did, removing the lid slowly and dropping it to the floor the second I saw Presley’s famous leather jacket staring back at me.

“Holy. Shit,” Molly hissed. “Is that…?”

I looked up at her, our eyes meeting in wonder, both mouths hanging slack.

My hands moved automatically to be near him, digging into the flesh of the jacket and holding it up.

“That can’t bethejacket?”

“It is,” I whispered back to her, turning it around in my hands before dropping it on top of the box and opening it up to look inside. The first thing I saw was my signature and the words I’d written above them.

No Regrets

Directly underneath it were five more words that hadn’t been there before, the pen dark and black compared to the faded ink of my own words.

Not a single one.

Presley

My heart raced wildly, crashing against my chest.

“He’s actually given you his jacket, Tess.”

Those lips of mine were moving, but nothing was coming out as Molly dug further inside the box.

“What are these?” she asked, and I lowered the jacket to my lap to see her holding up a stack of envelopes bound together by a rubber band.

“Letters?” I frowned.

“They have your name on them. No address. Just ‘Cherry’ on each one.” She took the band off and flicked through them as carefully as she could. “Some of them look old.” When she got halfway through the stack, there was a blue post-it-note in the middle, and she passed it to me.

Proof that it’s always been you.

P x

“Give them to me,” I said at once, holding my hands out to take the stack from her.

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