Page 79 of The Virgin Playboy

“I figured, you’d heard enough about it, that you might want a first edition. Cool thing is, it has different passages that I wasn't sure was gonna make the final edits, but I'm kind of glad they did,” she looked down. “Just do me a favor, though? Don't open it. In fact, don’t even read it now.”

“Why not? It’d be perfect for such a long plane ride,” I insisted.

“Just start it when you're willing to start it from beginning to end.”

“Well…thank you, Jaq.” I reached in to give her a strong hug, dread filling my senses that this might be our final goodbye. She felt so good in my arms, so real that I almost didn't want to let go.

“Look Jaq, I know with everything that happened with us…it wasn't exactly ideal or how we had planned them. But if there's one thing I'll miss most about my time here, it's you.”

“Come on, Graham, you're gonna make me cry,” she admitted, dabbing the corner of her eye.

“But it's true.”

“Things definitely won't be the same without you here. I slowly feel your presence leaving New York, and it already feels lonelier. But I want this so much for you. Whatever you do with your life, you're going to be so fucking great at it. I'm just glad that I got to experience you before the whole world gets to fall in love with you. Now, go on, be that person you were meant to be,” she shooed.

“I can't believe this might be the last time I ever see you.”

“It might be for you…but I'm sure it won't be the last time I see you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Graham

My mum had been open-minded enough to treat me to one of my New York faves, a little hole in the wall Haitian spot that wildly enough we were all overdressed for. Because the Caribbean population had been so small in New Zealand, my entire family had no idea what to order.

One by one, I made suggestions based off the kind of things we ate back home. Kaihautū went with his favorite griot, while I ordered for my go-to kabrit nan sòs, a goat dish that didn't remind me of any of the things we made back home with goat.

When the food came, everyone dug in, savoring and devouring the spoils of a foreign palate, wishing we could divulge in this kind of diversity in Auckland. That just made it

taste even better, knowing it was a luxury only afforded to me if I was willing to travel. Either way, it was awesome, just having them here. Even better, that they’d agreed to stay another week. But underneath all the smiles, shared stories, and laughter, the only thing I could even think about was my last moment with Jacqueline.

I was going to miss the way she sang and danced in public like no one else was watching. Or her wide range of voices. It had become my normal to engage with a dozen of her “personalities.” It was going to be weird to date a woman who was just normal.

Then there were the times we'd lay in bed all day. The safety I felt being in her arms with the feel of her fingers through my hair. She would spend hours explaining all her world building, characters and their motivations, and I never got tired of listening to how much it meant to her.

Then there was the way she kissed me. With her whole heart and soul. Be it a peck on the cheek or the deep kisses we shared when we made love. It was like nothing else mattered to me in those moments, and the second I stepped my foot on the plane back home, I’d never experience that again. I’d never light up when we were meeting somewhere and she finally came in my field of vision. Worst of all, I’d never hear her voice again. Or the way she said my name.

Sitting with that made me rush through my meal, excusing myself later to get some fresh air. Only now that I remember that Jaq gifted me her book, and being alone, I had chosen to open it when I didn't have the lot of family sitting around to read my reaction. Taking out my book bag, I smiled at the wrapping paper she had chosen to wrap it in. It was a montage of surfboards and other beachy things, with likely her debut inside signed. Tearing away at the wrapping paper, my brows furrowed in confusion when I discovered it wasn't her book, but a plain one instead, with no cover or title.

Turning it over in my hands, I flipped it back to the front, even more confused when I opened it, only to learn that the pages were blank. In the book’s center, it had been hollowed out, home to two small envelopes inside. The one stacked on top was labeled "read this before opening that. The envelope below it simply being labeled as just that.

Following her instructions, I opened the first one not surprised that it was a letter, but this could have been what she meant by reading it when I was ready. I know for my mental health I should have listened to her, but last words from Jaq was like playing back the best part of your favorite song. What if it gave me comfort? Especially if like me, our time together wasn't time wasted. Bracing myself, I unfolded the letter.

Dear Graham,

I debated over and over on how I should start this letter. To be completely honest, this has been my tenth attempt. None of the first ever felt right, and I think being a writer, you're so focused on pretty prose, but I realized you were one of the few people, if not the only person, I didn't always have to be on for so I just decided to keep things simple. So here goes.

What words do I write to the man who changed my life? Altered the way I looked at the world. The way I looked at love…making me feel things I'd never felt before. The thing I regret the most about our time together was the way that I hurt you. You're possibly the most beautiful soul I've ever met, and I know there is no way I can ever make it up to you for abandoning you in your darkest times.

I want you to know that my fear of love was never about you. It was about the deep-rooted fear that I kept buried inside me. Inch by inch you cut me open, revealing the part of me that was actually capable of romantic love. Of loving someone without feeling like I was sacrificing core parts of myself. I wanted to be what you were to me, but I still wasn't ready, because I hadn't fully addressed the ugly side to loss and grief, and why I blamed myself for so long for something I didn't have control over. With you, I did what I always seemed to do. Recoil. Abandon ship. Tell myself it's better to be alone than it does to feel hurt, but feeling pain has taught me to appreciate the warmth in love, and I know you don't think so, but you taught me that.

And how could I forget how much of an honor it was to meet your dad… I think about those moments every single day, and not a day goes by where I wasn't transformed by his humility, his kindness, and the strength he showed me in my last moments with him. And in the beautiful place that shaped you. Raised you to be the incredible person you are today. Every day I regret not being there for you, wishing for ways to honor him in the way he deserved. How I planned to won't make up for me not being there, but I think it's a good start. You can move on to “that”, assuming you listened and you didn't move ahead.

I stared blankly at the next one, not knowing if I could handle what it said. Reading her regrets was bad enough. Knowing she thought about my dad as much as me was enough to send me into a burning building. Wiping away stray tears, I built up the courage to open it, only this time I fucking lost it. Tears fell from my eyes in streams, as I held up an ultrasound photo dated from just a few days ago. A second letter being behind the photo.

If it's a boy, I'm going to name him Elliot, after your dad. That way a piece of your dad lives on in the next generation. But I'm afraid if it's a girl, I'm going to name her Melody. If she's anything like her father, she's going to be musical.

Truthfully, I almost didn't want to tell you, because I didn't want to influence what you do with your life. You have time to accomplish so much, and I wanted you above all, to have a choice. I never planned for this to happen, but I'm forty-one, and I don’t know. I think I might be ready for this chapter. But I understand at that twenty-eight, you still have your whole life ahead of you. I only wanted you to know because it's ours. Possibly the last great thing we made together.