The Will (Magdalene #1)(172)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“Jesus,” he muttered, even as he kept reading.

So I put my message to you here because I also knew it would be you that would be dealing with the rubbish.

Other things I knew were that she’d make you happy. And I knew you’d make her happy.

I tried very hard to convince you that you could do that, as you know. But where I failed in life, I knew I’d succeed when I’d gone for when I gave you the most precious gift I had to give, I knew you’d take care of it at the same time you’d make that so.

I knew this because you and your children made me happy. Very happy, my lamb. When I found you, Conner, Amber and Ethan, me, a woman who at one point felt she had nothing, suddenly had it all.

Thank you for giving that to me.

Thank you for making my precious girl happy.

Thank you for being all that’s you.

I love you, my Jake, always.

Forever and completely.

Lydie

Jake stared at the words and cleared his throat.

Then he read them again.

And again.

And once more.

Then he put the letter back in the envelope and walked out of the garage.

Through the abundance of lavender, Jake saw his wife and son in the garden across the way.

He didn’t go to them.

He went into the house and up to their room. He put the letter on his nightstand to share with Josie later. When they were alone. When he could give her what she needed when she read it, and he could take what he needed from her when he re-experienced it.

He left the room, walked down the stairs, through the house and outside.

The minute the sun hit his face, he heard laughter coming at him from the garden.

He looked that way and saw his daughter had come home. She was there with boy Taylor, girl Taylor, his wife and their son.

And Josie’s head was tipped back, the sun shining in her hair, the breeze drifting through it so tendrils floated around her face. Her h*ps were encased in short-shorts, her long legs golden with tan. One of his old t-shirts hung loose at her top, her grandmother’s wellingtons on her feet.

She and the kids were laughing, loud and long. Ethan was even doubled over with it and boy Taylor was repeatedly smacking his leg, on which, for some reason, the kid was wearing pink jeans.

Jake had no idea why they were laughing and he didn’t give a f**k.

They were laughing.

They were together.

They were happy.

That was all he cared about.

That was all he ever cared about.

And he had it.

On this thought, it happened.

He watched his wife put a hand to her hip and lift the other to pull her floating hair back. She held it at her crown, but even with this effort, tendrils were flying around her still laughing face.

She was in Maine, in short-shorts, an old tee and Wellingtons, but it was a live-action recreation of the picture he’d had for years.

And that live-action kept going when she caught sight of her husband and her laughing face beamed so bright, Jake could feel its light all the way across the expanse. She took her hand from her hip to lift it to her lips and blow him a kiss.

A dream come true.

His.

Fuck.

Beauty.

He sent a smile her way then, still smiling, Jake Spear turned toward the garage in order to get back to work.

His wife and kids needed something.

Or more to the point, he needed to give his wife and kids something, that being keeping them protected from the elements.

So he had to set about doing that.

And, as always, he did.