The Last Letter (Page 21)

“I think I’ve blown right by little and straight to asylum-ville,” she mumbled into my chest before turning her head and resting it just under my collarbone.

Damn, she fit against me exactly like I knew she would—perfectly. In another life, this is how we would have faced every challenge together. But in that life, Maisie was healthy and Mac was alive. In this world…well, she wasn’t exactly hugging me back. Right. Because I had her arms pinned between us. Was she pushing me away? Was I that oblivious?

That realization hit me like a fire hose, and I loosened my arms immediately. What the hell had I been thinking? Just because she wanted me to stay with her didn’t mean she wanted me to touch her. I was her default, and lucky to be that, but I sure as hell wasn’t her choice or preference.

“Don’t let go,” she whispered. Her hands were still between us, but she wasn’t pushing me away, they were simply resting on my pecs. If anything, she leaned in. “I’d forgotten what this felt like.”

“Being hugged?” My voice was sandpaper-rough.

“Being held together.”

Never before had a single phrase brought me to my emotional knees.

“I’ve got you.” I tightened my hold, splaying one hand wide just beneath her shoulder blades and cupping the back of her head with the other. Using my body the best I could, I surrounded her, imagining I was some kind of wall—that I could keep away whatever heartache was coming for her. My chin rested on the top of her head, and second by second, I felt her melt and give.

Although I couldn’t tell her, I loved this woman. I would take on armies for her, kill for her, or die for her. There was no truth greater than that, and no other truth that I could give her. Because where she was honest and strong and kind, I was a liar who had already hurt her in the worst way possible. I had no right to hold her like this, but even worse—I wasn’t going to move a muscle.

“Mrs. MacKenzie?” The nurse came back in, accompanied by Maisie’s surgeon. “I just caught them as they were coming out of surgery.”

“Yes?” Ella turned in my arms, and I let her free, but she took my hand, squeezing so hard I had a momentary concern for the blood flow to my fingers.

The surgeon smiled, and I felt a rush of relief more powerful than any time I’d escaped battle unscathed.

“We got it all. It was touch and go there for a while with her left kidney, but we managed to save it. You’ve got quite a stubborn little girl on your hands. She’s in recovery right now, resting. As soon as she wakes up, we’ll bring you back to see her, but don’t expect her to stay awake for long, okay?”

“Thank you.” Ella’s voice broke, but those two words carried the kind of meaning that usually took hours to convey.

“You’re welcome.” The surgeon smiled again, exhaustion written on every line of her face, before leaving us alone in the waiting room.

“She’s okay.” Ella’s eyes closed.

“She’s okay.”

“She’s…she’s really okay,” she repeated. Then, as if someone peeled back whatever had been keeping her upright, she collapsed, her knees giving out under her. I caught her before she hit the ground and hauled her up against my side. “She’s okay. She’s okay.” Ella said the phrase over and over again until the words came on heaving cries, the sobs rough and raw.

I hooked one arm under her knees and one behind her back, picking her up as she buried her face in my neck, hot tears streaking down my skin to soak my shirt. Then I settled onto the couch, holding her across my lap as her gut-wrenching cries shook her small frame.

She cried in a way that reminded me of the valve being released on a pressure cooker—the result of too much confined for way too long. And even though the relief was still sweet from the successful surgery, I knew there was so much more ahead for her—for them. This was simply a pause in the fight that allowed her a precious second to catch her breath.

“I’ve got you. She’s okay,” I told her, smoothing my hand over her hair. “You’re both okay.” I spoke in the present tense because that was all I could promise her.

And for right now, with Havoc safe with Colt, and Maisie tumor-free, and Ella curled in my arms, it was enough.

Chapter Eleven

Ella

Letter #21

Ella,

Yes, I can believe the guy at the library asked you out. No, I don’t think it’s odd, or a prank. Why would you? It’s not like I haven’t seen your picture, which yes, I know, puts me at an advantage between us. Not sure if you noticed, but you’re definitely not hurting in the looks department.

Go ahead, give me your excuses. Yes, you have two kids, and yes, one of them is facing incredible odds. You own a very time-consuming business, and from what I know about you, you also tend to put yourself last when factoring anything into your life.

But listen to me—scratch that…read me—none of that makes you “undatable,” as you called it. Do you know what’s undatable? Someone who’s selfish, or consumed with the tiny things in life that don’t mean anything. To me, the most attractive quality in a woman is her ability to give of herself, and Ella, you do that in spades.

I get that you haven’t gotten out there since Jeff walked out. I understand that for the last five years you’ve been consumed with raising your kids, building your business, and generally being everything to everyone. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t let someone in. Especially now.

I’m not going to say you need someone to lean on, because I know you’ve become the expert on standing on your own. But with what you’re facing, I know it would help to have someone there to support you in the moments when you feel like it’s impossible. Go out to dinner with the guy, Ella. Even if nothing comes of it, you’ll know you gave the universe the shout-out. You can’t turn away every good thing that comes to you because you’re scared of what might happen, or not happen. That’s the coward’s way out, and you are no coward.

And honestly, who wouldn’t fall for you? We’re three months into this, and I’m half in love with you without ever having been in the same room. Just give the guy—give yourself—a shot at some happiness, because you deserve it.

Or you could wait until January, when I get to randomly show up at your door.

Just food for thought.

~ Chaos

…

“Need anything else?” I asked Maisie, handing her the iPad. She was all set up in the living room of the main house’s residence, within shouting distance of Hailey and Ada.

“Nope,” she replied, popping the P as she opened one of the apps her teacher had recommended.

“Your belly feel okay?” It had been two weeks since her surgery and, while the incision site looked to me like a monstrous, pink snake slithering across my daughter’s belly, she swore the pain was nearly gone.

Maybe it was the way she’d slept the first few days after, or her sore throat from the twelve hours of intubation, or the feeding tube that had stayed with her for days, but I had a hard time believing her. Or perhaps it was that my pain tolerance on her behalf was so much lower than hers had grown to be.

“Mom, I’m fine. No puking or anything. It’s okay. Go.” She looked up at me. “Besides, as soon as you leave, Ada will give me the sugar-free ice cream.”

“I don’t think you were supposed to tell me that.” I laughed and pressed a kiss to her scalp, still shiny and smooth. Overhauling her diet had been a challenge, that was for sure. “You know why it has to be sugar-free, right?”

“You said sugar feeds the monster inside me. And even though the big part of the monster is out, the rest of him is in my blood. So we can’t feed the monster.”

“Right. I’m so sorry, Maisie.”

She looked up at me with eyes that felt decades older. “It’s okay, the monster doesn’t like this kind.”

I kissed her again before I left, grabbing her binder on the way out the door after letting Ada know I was headed out.

Stopping at the entryway mirror for a moment, I tried to smooth back the frizz that had developed in the braid I’d put into my hair this morning.

“Stop. No matter what you do, you’re still gorgeous,” Hailey remarked as she came up behind me.

“Ha. I can’t even remember the last time I went to the gym or put on some makeup. I’m batting for doesn’t-look-psycho. Gorgeous is way out of my league.”

She propped her head on my shoulder, and our eyes met in the mirror. “You have the kind of gorgeous that shines through no matter what.”

“Looking for a raise?” I teased.

“Nope. Just telling the truth. Now get out of here before you miss that meeting. Ada and I have Maisie. Don’t you worry.”

“Worrying has become my default emotion.”

She searched my face for a second before her eyes lit up, which meant she was about to suggest something ludicrous. “I know just the thing.”

“Hailey…” I groaned. We were friends, but her idea of fun didn’t exactly fit with my life.

“Let’s double date. I’ll grab Luke, and you bring Beckett. We can go out to a movie, or dinner, or try out that new karaoke bar in the Mountain Village.”

“A bar?” I let my tone tell her exactly what I thought about that one. That was the life of carefree people who didn’t have responsibilities like kids. Or cancer. Or a kid with cancer. You know, normal twenty-five-year-olds.

“Yes. A bar. Because if anyone could use a drink, it’s you, Ella. And I know Beckett would be up for taking you out.”

My spine stiffened. “We’re not…it’s not like that.” Just the thought of Beckett had a blush rising to my cheeks.

“That man has his eyes on you whenever you’re in the same room. Come on, how many times did he drive back to Denver after Maisie’s surgery?”

I turned away from the mirror to face Hailey. “Three times.”

“In two weeks.”

And every time he’d shown up, my heart had done this stupid, crazy leaping move. Something had changed the day of Maisie’s surgery. Not just because he’d been there, but because I’d wanted him to be. It had been the first time during Maisie’s treatment that I’d allowed myself to not just lean on someone, but let them hold me up.