“So,” he said as he rubbed his hands together. “What should I do?”
“Nothing.”
He stilled. “Come again?”
“Well, almost nothing.” She bent down and foraged through some stuff behind the counter. When she stood again, she was holding a pad of drawing paper, a pack of colored pencils, and a ballpoint pen. “You’re going to write her a love letter.” She slid the supplies toward him.
Hunter eyed the art supplies, doubt creeping in. “I’ve never been good at writing.”
“You don’t have to be. Just tell her everything you would say if she were standing right here.” Maude pointed to his left. “Don’t hold back. When you’re finished, give it to me. I’ll make sure she gets it andreadsit.”
He touched the colored pencils. “You really think this will work?”
“I have no idea.” She clasped her hands together. “But it’s worth a try. You’re a good man, Hunter.”
“I didn’t used to be—”
“Stop. Whatever you were in your past, you’re not that now. I’ve seen you with Britt. How you look at her, how she looks at you. Even before you got together there was something special between you. I’m an expert at these things, you know.”
“Oh, really.” He smirked.
“Britt’s changed since you came into her life. She was growing into her own, learning to let go of her fear. You had a lot to do with that. But now she’s retreating again, something she does when she’s hurt or scared. Will the letter work? Maybe it willget you two talking. Or maybe it won’t, and Britt will decide it’s easier to hide from life than to live it, even though we all know that’s not true. At least you would have given her the chance to decide.”
Hunter frowned. He was the one who needed the chance, not her, and she was the one who was refusing to talk to him. But Maude was right, he needed to fight for her. He gathered up the materials. “Can I use the room?”
“Of course.”
A few minutes later he was staring at the blank page, the past couple of months rolling through his mind—how much his life had changed since meeting Britt. Not just falling in love with her, although that was the most important thing. He hadn’t given in to his instincts to run and drink away his problems when Britt broke up with him, or when he found out about his mother’s subterfuge. Instead, he stayed sober and reconciled with his parents. He and Sawyer were cool now, after Hunter told him he knew about his arrangement with Mother and that he understood why he did it.
“Dude, I am so glad this is out in the open now,” Sawyer had said, visibly relieved. “I didn’t like keeping that secret from you, especially now that we’re friends.”
Friends. When he’d left prison, he didn’t have a single friend left. Now he had Sawyer, Maude, and X. His parents too. He’d always felt like the odd man out, that it was him against the world, although he realized that was just his immature reaction to being different from his family. Even if things didn’t work out with Britt, even if he had to carry the pain of losing her for the rest of his life, he wasn’t alone anymore.
But he had to fight for her one last time.
He picked up the colored pencils and began his love letter.
***
“Sorry I’m late,” Daniel said to Amy as he sat down at the table. “Traffic was a mess today.”
“Uh-huh.” She folded her arms on the table and glowered at him.
“Seriously, you can check the traffic report.” He fought to restrain his temper and opened the menu. Was she going to treat him like poo on the bottom of her shoe for the rest of his life? Amy was a passionate woman, and she could hold a grudge. He just wished she wasn’t so volatile toward him. “Did you order yet?”
“I’m not hungry.”
He snapped the menu shut. “All right, let’s get this over with so we don’t suffer any longer than necessary.”
She flinched, her scowl morphing into surprise.
“I’ve been thinking all afternoon about what we should do, and there’s only one solution.” He paused, bracing himself for her inevitable negative reaction. “We both talk to Britt. Together.”
“Absolutely not.” She uncrossed her arms, her hands closing into balls. “I won’t be in the same room with you.”
“You already are.” He tried to smile, but the bitterness coming off her in waves prevented it. “Look, she needs our support—”
“I’m only talking to you now because Britt won’t talk to me, and I need you to tell her to.”
