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There are no words heavy enough to carry the weight of how sorry I am for the turn our lives took because of me. You were so much of my world, and I took you for granted. I took the unconditional support you offered me for granted. I missed that every day.
I missed you. Every. Single. Day.
There were times I told myself it was for the best. That we both needed to learn to be adults, independent of each other. Maybe that’s true in some sense, but I’m pretty sure it was just my wounded pride trying to convince me I hadn’t let the best thing to ever happen to me slide out of my grasp.
And for what? Casual sex with women I didn’t care about. Women that never compared to you. Women who pretended to be something they weren’t.
You never did that. You were never anything but honest with me, brutally at times.
Until you weren’t.
And now here we are. You, hating me. Me, wanting to hate you. I hate what you did, even if I’m starting to understand why. But at the end of the day...
I love you more than my anger and your hate combined.
Do you remember the notes I used to leave you? No matter where I was, or you were, I always wanted to talk to you. There weren’t enough hours in the day for me to get enough of you. That didn’t stop when you quit me. Every day I thought of something I wanted to share with you before anyone else. I have a box full of letters and notes that I wrote to you over the years. Naively, I thought they were safe from prying eyes; kept secretly and securely until the day they’d find their way to you.
I’m only starting to scratch the surface of how my actions became a landslide that derailed your life, your peace, your health, and your happiness. None of it should have ever happened. There are so many things that require my apologies, I’ll keep saying it every time I find a new one.
I’m sorry.
My family comes first. That wasn’t always the case, but it is now and with each day to come. Neither of us is completely innocent. So, I’m asking for a clean slate or at the least a way forward.
The letters are yours, if ever you want them.
I’m yours, if you ever decide you want me again. Even if it’s just another angry fuck. Whatever you need from me, Isla, I’ll provide it. I’m not the same boy I was, my priorities are straight.
Always yours,
Cillian
“Well, shit,” Kit says when I finish. “That was romantic.”
“When did you fuck him,” Willa asks.
“I wonder what the other letters say.” This comes from Zander, echoing my same thoughts.
“Isla?” Willa pushes.
“That first sleepover with Sadie,” I answer Willa.
“Fuck you, for not telling me.”
“It’s not any of our business,” Zander says.
“No, it isn’t. You’ve been through a lot with me,” I tell her. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
“I told you you’d fall back in love with him.”
“It was just sex,” I say.
“Right, you just tripped and fell into his bed with your body but not your heart or head,” Willa says with a side eye.
“Hot sex?”
“Fuck, Kit, you have no idea.”
“I would if you’d give me details.”
