When Holden had suggested a month ago having my friends fly in for my birthday, I vetoed it—I didn’t want them spending a lot of money on me. He’d gone behind my back and invited Tristan and Luci anyway. I had been annoyed that he’d gone against what I said, but now, I can’t remember why I was so irritated.
“You two ready?” I ask when we separate.
“Hell yeah,” Tristan replies with a bright smile as he picks up the luggage. “I get to get wine-drunk with you again. Why wouldn’t I be ready?”
“We are not getting wine-drunk at two in the afternoon.”
Luci laughs, taking her powder-blue suitcase from Tristan. “I love how you think you have any say in this.”
Tristan slings his free arm over my shoulders, and I roll my eyes but guide them to the exit. Luci all but bounces beside us, chattering on about her latest relationship. It’s a new development, something I have heard very little about, and I swallow thickly. Moving in with Holden was one of the best decisions I have ever made, but I still hate that I’m missing so much back in Austin.
When will the homesickness end?
My thoughts get derailed when Tristan mention he’s brought my mail with him—and there’s a letter from Katie.
This announcement lingers on my mind through the drive home. I listen with one ear as my friends regale me with stories of their lives, but I can’t stop wondering what Katie has to say. All I know is there’s nothing my stepsister can say that will make up for all the Hell she’s caused.
Tristan passes over the letter as soon as we are inside the house, and I say tonelessly that I’ll be back. I can feel Holden’s scrutiny on my back as I head upstairs to read the letter in private. The sight of the loops and swirls of Katie’s handwriting is more painful than I anticipated. It reminds me—as if I could ever have forgotten—that Ashton is only in my care because Katie was so selfish. Because Katie couldn’t be a mother.
I can’t put it off any longer: I peel back the flap, heart pounding in my throat as I unfold the paper inside.
Dealla,
I know I’m probably the last person you ever want to hear from, but I have something to say. I was selfish, immature, irresponsible, and dangerously negligent. Ashton didn’t deserve that. Our parents didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve it. But I didn’t think about that. I did what I wanted.
I can’t change what I’ve done. I can’t change that I put myself before my son’s needs. His safety. No matter how much I regret doing that to him, I did it. And I do regret it. So much. I also regret ever putting you in the position of having to raise a child you didn’t give birth to. You’ve loved and cared for him far better than I ever did.
I want to thank you for that. Because of your influence, he’ll grow up knowing love and safety. Yes, he should have gotten it from me, since I’m the one who gave him life. No, scratch that. I gave himexistence. You’re the one giving him life. It was never your responsibility, but you’re doing it. You’re shouldering the burden of my choices. I can’t tell you how much I admire you for doing it. I don’t think I would do the same if I was in your shoes.
I’ve been going to therapy twice a week since I got here. Rehab, too. They’re making me do some soul searching, and it’s helping. I’m seeing all the mistakes I’ve made and trying to do better.
I don’t know how to say this without sounding selfish but I don’t think I can take Ashton back after this. Not because I don’t love him, but because I do. I’ve finally seen how much I love the little guy. But I can’t screw up his life any more than I already have. I can’t take him away from the one constant he’s ever had.
You.
You’re the only one who’s been there for him every step of the way, no matter how much it messed up your life. You’ve been so amazing with him, and I can’t take that away. So I hope you can continue being there for him. If not…
Don’t feel obligated to reply. I won’t take it personally if you don’t. I just needed you to know that I’m trying, even if it is too little too late.
Love,
Katie
Bile rises in my throat as I read the letter again. A small part of me can acknowledge that Katie is finally getting the help she needs and owning up to her mistakes; Hell, I can even appreciate the fact. But the larger—and more vocal—part of me thrashes violently and reminds me it’s too little too late. Two years of Katie’s selfishness at the expense of her child, and she thinks an apology will suffice? It feels to me like yet another self-involved act.
Ashton is happy, carefree, because I interfered. Because I took over caring for him every time Katie decided she didn’t want to. Because I was there for him.
A tear drops onto the paper, smudging the ink, and I sigh before wiping away the dampness in my eyes. Who cares, I think bitterly.There’s no point in worrying about Katie anymore. You have a kid to raise. With another deep breath, I shove the letter back into its envelope and put it in the nightstand drawer. I scrub my cheeks with the hem of my T-shirt, push to my feet, and head downstairs.
I ignore everyone’s attention and scoop Ashton into my arms. He whines when his toy falls from his hand, but I hold him close and breathe in the scent of baby shampoo.
“I love you so very much, Ashton Alexander. More than the rainbow.”
“What’d it say?” Tristan asks once I have set the toddler back on the floor.
I exhale sharply and sit beside Holden on the couch; his arm immediately wraps around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “She apologized for the crap she’s pulled over the last few years. Also, uh, said she won’t take him back when she gets out of jail.”
“Are you okay?” murmurs Holden, and I shrug.
