A Whirlwind of Color - Chapter 25
Monday
Despite what James said about our room being more comfortable, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned for hours until I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed fresh air. Maybe a walk or a run. But that was probably out of the question. I shoved the blankets off and climbed out of bed.
There were still towels all over the bathroom floor where I had let the tub overflow. My note had even been on the vanity last night, mocking me. James had left everything in disarray when he came to find me. Or maybe he wanted me to see this. To remind me to stop being selfish. I knew I had been. I didn’t need a reminder.
Either way, I wanted today to be a fresh start for all of us. I grabbed the towels off the floor and headed downstairs. The last time I had done laundry, I was paying for it with quarters in my dorm. Nothing nearly as fancy as the washer and dryer here. I turned a bunch of knobs and prayed I was doing it right. The last thing I wanted was to cause any more trouble.Or water damage.
As I waited for the laundry to finish, I stared out at the skyline. The city lights were starting to dim as the sun rose. The park in the distance looked even prettier at dawn. Maybe I could get used to this. Apparently I had before. I just needed to remember.
James had mentioned a book that I had written. I had always wanted to write a book. Was it any good? I glanced down the hall. Where would it be? Probably in an office if I had one.I abandoned my view in search of the documents that would reveal everything I had forgotten.
After a few wrong turns, I walked into a beautiful library. Floor to ceiling books. Every inch of shelf space was covered. There was even a fancy stone fireplace to one side. I felt like Belle from Beauty and the Beast. I turned in a circle, taking it all in.
There was a small desk in the corner. A notebook was sitting on top of the desk, but I wasn’t sure if it was mine. It saidIvy Smoakon the front and there was an outline of sorts. It did look like my handwriting. A pen name, perhaps? Why would I want a pen name? I had never disliked my name. But I had a different name now. Penny Hunter. It was going to take me a lifetime to get used to it. Hunter. Mrs. Hunter. God, it didn’t even sound good. I sat down in the office chair.
There wasn’t much left on the desk. Just a sleek laptop and a few pens and pencils. I glanced in the waste bin next to the desk. There was an envelope torn in two with James’ name on it along with a few crumpled up pieces of paper. It looked like my handwriting on the envelope. I glanced at the door, knowing well enough that no one else was awake, before lifting the torn envelope and the pieces of paper out of the trash.
I put the two sides of the envelope together.Definitely my handwriting.I un-crumpled the pieces of paper and realized it used to be one sheet. I placed both sides together and read the letter.
James,
If you're reading this, we both know what happened. I don't need to say it. And all I can say is that I understand what you're feeling. Like your heart hurts. Like you don't know if you'll ever smile again. Like the world has stopped. Like the only thing you can see for miles is darkness.
You see, I almost lost you once. I know that feeling. My mother found me falling apart in a bathroom stall at the hospital. And she told me something that really stuck with me. She told me that you have to keep living in order to keep the memory of those you love alive. And I'm asking you to do that for me. Remind Scarlett of who I was. Tell stories to our son. Don't let me disappear to our children. Don't let them forget how much I loved them.
Maybe that seems like the hardest thing in the world. But what I'm about to ask you to do, it may just be harder. I need you to keep the memory of me alive to our children. But I need you to let the memories of me with you fade. Because I need you to keep your heart open. Keep loving. Keep living. I need you to let me go.
All I've ever wanted was for you to be happy. And even though it feels like the world has stopped, it hasn't. Because despite what you think, there is so much light in this world. There's so much light in you.
Remind Scarlett that I love her. Tell our son I wished I could have met him. And find a new love for yourself. You've always been stronger than you realized. But it's okay to lean on your family and friends. Let them help you. Let them in. Don't shut out everyone who cares about you. Because despite how it feels,you are not alone. You're strong. You're good. You're whole. You're loved. You are so loved, James.
Now smile,
Penny
Smile? Seriously?I realized my hands were shaking as I smoothed the two sides of the note against the top of the desk. What had I been thinking?
I folded the letter in half to hide the words. Clearly I hadn’t been thinking. This was a suicide note, wasn’t it? And it seemed like James had seen it. His name had been on the envelope. He saw it and tried to destroy it. He didn’t want me to see just how depressed I had been.
I thought about the conversation I had overheard between James and Rob a few days ago. He said he used to catch me crying and I’d wipe away the tears and pretend I was okay. He admitted that I wasn’t happy. I looked down at the note. But this unhappy?
Or maybe there was another explanation.If you're reading this, we both know what happened.I shook my head. The whole thing was about death. I was saying goodbye. Why? I looked around the library. What was so awful about this life?
This version of me was married to a handsome man, had an adorable daughter, and another kid on the way. I had written abook. I was wealthy beyond my wildest dreams.So what was so horrid? What was I missing?
Because my current life seemed worse. I had no memory of the life around me. I had a son who was dying. I’d never have any more kids. I took a deep breath. Penny Hunter was a lot better off than Penny Taylor. She had it all. But I was terrified to remember. Not just because it meant giving up my current state of mind, but because it might spiral me into a horrible depression.
I folded up the letter again. And again. Until it was a tiny piece of paper in my hand. James tried to hide parts of my life from me. So what else was he hiding besides the children? What other secrets was he keeping?
I stood up from the chair. I didn’t care that it was early. We needed to talk. I needed to understand everything if I had any chance of fixing this. I wandered out of the library and down the hall to the guest room he was sleeping in.
“James,” I said and tapped lightly with my knuckles.
No answer.
“James?” I knocked again.
