Page 2 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

I can still hear your mom’s apologies as your bodyguard led you out of the church and into a car waiting out front. Just like that, you were gone.

Again.

I should’ve been used to it. After all, it wasn’t my first time watching you leave. But it still made me think of the countless summers we’d spent together.

I thought of the first time I ever heard you sing. The nights we’d spend catching fireflies at the beach house. Back when you were just a boy with a broken guitar and I was a naïve girl in love with her brother’s best friend.

My mind brought me back to the start.

And for the first time since you left…

I let it.

Before he left…

HADLEY, 13

“Will you hurry the hell up? We need to get to the video game store before it closes!” My twin brother pounds on the bathroom door for the tenth time in five minutes—and when I say “pounding on the door,” I mean it sounds like he’s trying to drive his fist through it.

He didn’t even knock that hard the day he went through an entire cheesecake at my cousin’s wedding, only to find out he’d become lactose intolerant overnight.

Yes, that can happen.

“Calm down, I’m almost ready.” I set my hair straightener down, unplug it, and give myself a once-over in the mirror.

I really shouldn’t have gone for a swim right before the party—my hair was already frizzy from the humidity, so once I got it wet, my straightener didn’t stand a chance.

We need to go to the store to pick up a few last-minute items for tonight. I’m only tagging along because Mom promised we’d stop by the art store afterward.

I wasn’t able to bring all of my painting supplies to the beach house, so Mom promised to get me a few things to get me through the summer.

Gray pounds on the door again. “What are you doing in there? Naming your pubes? Get out, you dildo.”

I roll my eyes at my brother’s request.

Gray might be the oldest since he was born a few minutes before me, but that doesn’t make him the mature twin. We’re thirteen, soon to be fourteen, but I swear sometimes he acts like he’s ten.

We’re about to start high school, for God’s sake.

I know he’s only nagging me because Evie, Mom’s best friend in the entire world, agreed to stop by the video game store on our way back. She even promised to buy Gray a new game for no reason other than to make him happy.

That’s Evelyn Wilder for you.

She’s the best godmother my brother and I could’ve ever asked for. Although, looking at the time, I doubt we’ll be able to stop by the art store and the video game store before they close.

“Grayson, no dildo talk!” Mom scolds from the kitchen. That’s been his go-to insult since he learned what the word meant. “We’ll be waiting in the car, okay, honey?”

“Okay,” I shout.

My brother lets out an irritated growl before walking away. It isn’t long before I hear the front door close in the distance.

I run my hand through my wavy red hair with a sigh. This is the first time Mom’s ever let my hair get this long. She said I’m old enough to take care of it now. It stops inches above my belly button, although I barely ever wear it down.

I always put my hair up, leave two strands out to frame my face, and call it a day.

My heart swells with joy when I stroll out of the bathroom and scan the beach house.

God, I love this place.

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