“Never in a million years did I think Nan would get remarried, let alone move into his house. It’s crazy and wonderful, and I bet, if Dad were still alive he would be happy for his mother too.”
“I agree. So does Raven. She mentioned that same thing at the shower. You know, we should really tell Nan that. I imagine she’s wondered if her son and husband would be happy for her.”
“Definitely.”
Before River could ask what Rowan planned on wearing that evening, her sister asked, “Have you spoken to Patrick since we all met for drinks Monday night?”
“No. I’ve seen him walking into the O Building a few times.” She wanted to talk to him. Desperately. Rowan picked up an envelope from her desk, a very familiar style of envelope, and waved it back and forth. River was mesmerized, like a cat watching a feather bouncing on a string. She didn’t pounce, but it was a close thing.
“I know we agreed to save the letters for home, but since I’ve personally witnessed your cheesy smiles and blushes when you read them now, I figured I’d give it over now. Plus, you’ve been moping.”
River didn’t bother denying the charge. Shehadbeen sulking. Enough with patience, River shot out of her chair and snatched the letter from her sister’s fingers. Sitting back down, she flipped Rowan off for smirking before running her fingertips across her name on the front. Patrick had distinctive handwriting. After all his letters, she imagined she would be able to pick out his style easily. She carefully broke the seal, pulling two pages free. Her hands shook in anticipation.
River wasn’t sure if she’d forgiven Patrick. She wasn’t sure when she admitted he was the only man she would ever love. She did know she couldn’t trust herself, but God, she wanted to. He had wooed her with letters. Letters! No one could read Patrick’s letters without feeling his honesty. His truth. She hoped... commitment. Regret.
Patrick held nothing back. His vulnerability was beautiful. His mundane was mesmerizing. His erotic descriptions... heart palpitating.
Dear River,
You said hello to me, just like I’d hoped to hear from your mouth, your lips— Hello Patrick— you said it, and I’m still hearing it. I hear your voice all the time. I wake up in the middle of the night hearing your voice.
When it’s dark, I hear you breathe. When I close my eyes, I hear you moan. I hear you ask me to kiss you. I hear you ask me to go faster. You demand I go harder. I’m hard for hours... after.
How has your week been? Are you getting plenty to eat?
Is it wrong to admit how jealous I am of thefucking Murphythe Murphy brothers feeding you?
I’m meeting Dad downstairs later for a drink. We ordered a food delivery. The wolf sculpture takes my breath away whenever I’m on the ground floor.
Dad has been extra... well... extra everything lately— quiet, sullen, angry. I think it has to do with Rowan. I plan on trying to get him to open up tonight. I don’t believe he will.
Do you wish I would go back to Oklahoma?
Do you dream of ways to avoid me, or do you dream of me sliding into your body? Do you wake up feeling my naked chest pressed against yours?
My floor in the O Building is better than I could have ever imagined. The kitchen is everything. I haven’t cooked in it yet. I just can’t bring myself to use anything. I want the first time to be with you. I think your daisy dishes will look perfect on the open shelving. What do you think?
The painting in the master is, Jesus, River... I can’t describe how I felt when I saw it, but I’ll try. It makes me think of the past, the present, and the future. I feel such a connection to my dad and my brother. I see us standing together, just like that, forever. When we’re nothing but spirits in the wind, I know the three of us will always stand side by side. Thank you.
I also see you and I standing together. We’re strong. We’re faithful. We’re each other’s everything. We’re in love. It’s forever too.
I had lunch with Jo and MacGregor yesterday. I’ve never seen Jo go after another person like she goes after her guard. No matter what she says or does, he ignores her— he’s pretending. He notices everything— it drives her crazy. It’s pretty entertaining.
Example: Our waitress asked for our drink orders. Jo ordered a gin and tonic, and before Thomas could order his drink, Jo started petting his hand on the table and told the waitress (and here, I feel I should relate that the waitress appeared to be drooling over the Scottish giant), “Oh, Honey wouldadorea Cosmopolitan.” I give the man credit. His expression never changed. Only a slight side-eye toward his charge. Clearly, Jo was marking her territory. She isnotsubtle. I don’t think MacGregor minded.
I ordered a shot of Jameson Black Barrel. With every swallow, I pretend that it’s your tongue in my mouth, tasting of whiskey. It makes it hard to concentrate.
Will you meet me for breakfast? Lunch? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Will you ever be mine again? I am forever yours.
All my love,
Patrick
River pressed the letter back into its trifold, slipping it back into the envelope. Her face had to be red. Her entire body felt hot. Patrick’s letters... his letters were an addiction. They were love poems written only for her, mixed with the subtlest of erotic meanderings. Patrick dropped the spicy curveballs so randomly. Did he know what he was doing? Did he know she felt every single word?
“Do you need to take a break? In the bathroom? With loud music?” When River jerked her gaze to Rowan’s, her sister was watching her with a cheeky grin. Her dimples were deep and judgy.
River laughed. She wouldn’t even try to deny how the letters affected her.
