Page 35 of Judgment Day

“It’s kind of boring.”

I laughed because I’d thought the same when I’d read it. I was almost certain Dickens got paid by the word. “Did you know that book originally had a different ending?” I propped my ankle on my knee and splayed my arm across the back of the sofa. “Spoiler: Pip spent his whole life chasing after something to fill a void. He thought it was money. He thought it was her—Estella. In the second ending, they find each other again, and he can’t imagine ever being apart. But in the first ending, he realized that he was content just being alone, and they went on their separate ways.”

“Why did they change it?”

“Because people need the hope of happily ever after. They don’t want to believe that you can spend your whole life searching for something and never find it. They don’t understand that some people are okay with being alone.”

“What about you? What do you believe?”

“I believe that it’s important to know whoyouare. In here—” I held a finger to his heart. “—and in here.” I tapped his temple. “The rest will happen when it’s meant to happen. Don’t wait for it. Don’t search for it.”Don’t give everything, including your soul, up for it. “Let it find you.” It was deep conversation for a twelve-year-old boy, but I wanted him to know, needed him to know, that happiness didn’t have to look the same for everyone. Happiness was subjective. It belonged to the heart and the heart alone. No one else got to decide what made us happy.

“Does this mean I don’t have to finish reading it?”

I grinned and ruffled his hair. “That’s between you and Isla. She’s the teacher. I’m just the dad.” It was still unbelievable to hear those words come out of my mouth.

“Am I ever going to go to school like everyone else?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I think so.”

“Then, I’ll make it happen.”As soon as I know you’re safe.I’d give him the world if it meant seeing him smile.

He pulled a yellow sticky note from between the pages and used it as a bookmark. I caught the scribbling on the bright paper and smiled.

“You know we have actual notebooks and bookmarks here, right?”

He pulled his eyebrows together, then widened his eyes when he spotted the note. “Oh, that’s not mine. It was in the book. They’re in all the books.”

“May I?” I glanced at the book, and he handed it to me.

Incredibly overwritten. Do not recommend. Note to Miss Havisham- Ditch the dirty dress, find another man and get laid FFS.

Lyric.

Of course. It was such a typical thing for her to say, such a typical thing for her to do. Something warmed in my heart, and suddenly I wanted to open every book on every shelf and read all of her thoughts. It was little things like this, fingerprints left behind, memories that lingered in quiet rooms, that made her absence speak volumes.

I ran my fingers across the ink, then closed the book. “I think that’s enough reading for today. Meet me at the stables?”

His face lit up, and he jumped off the sofa. “I have to change, but I’ll be right there.”

Then it was just me, the books, and the memory of a feisty girl with fire in her eyes, who’d fallen asleep, night after night, on this same sofa with an open book across her chest. She was the girl who wasn’t afraid to ask the hard questions. Who challenged me. Who acknowledged my darkness and understood my demons.

I grabbedThe Great Gatsby, remembering she’d read that one, and opened it up.

Sad shit. Do not read. #JusticeforGatsby

I shelved it, smiling to myself as I skimmed my fingers across the spines, trying to recall all the titles I’d seen as I’d covered her with a blanket and let her sleep.

I pulledAnna Karenina.

Reallysad shit. Avoid. Avoid. Avoid.

AndMoby Dick.

Not porn, FYI.

ThenPride & Prejudice.

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