The sound of someone punching in a code on the digital keypad drew my attention to the door. Seconds later, Duke entered the house carrying a paper bag full of food.
He smiled, walking straight into the kitchen. “What’s up, bruh?”
Dex was right behind him, only he didn’t say anything. He simply emptied the box of baby stuff he’d brought with him.
Before I could ask any questions, Tristan stepped into the house with more bags. “I told you not to buy so much food, Duke. You’re not feeding a damn army.” My big brother looked at me. “You good?”
My throat burned with unshed tears as my brothers started doing shit. Dex picked up a broom while Duke started breakfast.
Tristan cleared the ottoman and sat in front of me. “Sometimes it’s hard to see a future through the pain,” he said. “You’re like me. You hold shit in until you break. But we got you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Gemma loved you,” he continued. “She would want you to live a good life without her. And she wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up for any perceived slight.”
My eyes flashed to him. I hadn’t mentioned to anyone but Rissa how I felt about curving Gemma since I’d been in town. Somehow, Tristan knew. Without me saying a word. He was good like that.
I glanced at Duke, who gave me a single, almost imperceptible nod as he scrambled eggs. He knew, too. Over in the corner, Dex pressed his fist over his heart, something he’d done when I was a kid and I needed to know someone had my back.
Tristan squeezed my knee. “More than that, Gemma knew you weren’t perfect, but you have to know . . . you were perfect enough for her.” He eyed Ezra. “Enough for her to trust you with her biggest secret. Enough for her to let you be apermanentpart of her journey. And his.”
Finally, the tears fell.
“And you don’t have to explain shit to nobody or justify your decisions,” Duke added. “Not to Dallas, not to Ma and Dad, or any muthafucka with an opinion.”
Dexter approached us. “The next few days are about you taking the time you need to say goodbye to Gemma. However that looks.”
“If you need me to block access to this house, say the word,” Duke said. “This is my shit and I don’t care who it is. If you don’t want to be bothered, that’s it.”
I stared at Ezra. He’d fallen asleep seconds ago. “What am I supposed to do?” I asked, taking the empty bottle from his hand. “I don’t want to let her down.”
“Do you know what Gemma’s last wishes are?” Tristan asked.
I nodded.
While I was at Gemma’s house, I grabbed her important papers from the safe with the intent of handing them over to Dallas or Demi. But when I saw an envelope with my name in Gemma’s messy scribble, I opened it.
“She wrote a letter,” I said, pulling the crumpled piece of paper from my pocket. Just like last night, overwhelming sadness welled up inside me as I silently read her words again.
Asa,
This is going to sound like one of those corny letters that people read when someone dies. Usually, it starts with “if you’re reading this, I’m dead.”
Well, if you’re reading this, I’m dead.
Ya’ know, I never thought about dying until I had Ezra. Because I don’t have any living relatives and I want him to be set. But then I got to thinking … That’s not true. I do have family. You’re my family. You’re the most important person in my life. Outside of Ezra, of course.
Here’s the thing. I’m gonna keep this short because your attention span sucks. But you have made my life better. Yes, Jax and Ana have been there for me and I’m eternally grateful to them. But you? You’re everything. You took pity on me and let me tag along on your mission to find yourself. I saw the world with you. I had fun and felt loved because of you. Nothing romantic, because yuck. That kiss all those years ago still haunts me to this day.
Yet, when it counted, you were there. You gave me the best gift I could’ve hoped for. My son.
I hope you’re reading this after Ezra is an adult with kids of his own. If you’re not, if my baby is still young, I want you to take him.
I love Ana. I love Jax. But you’re not just his uncle. You’re his father. If I’m not here, I want him to have someone. I want him to have a parent, because I know what it’s like not to have one. And I know it’s not going to be easy. We signed a contract. But, shit, fight for him. Like you would fight for me.
That’s it. My final wish.
Don’t be mad at me for leaving you. I promise it wasn’t on purpose.
