Page 26 of Sweet Redemption

Letters that are numbered but I’ve been too much of a coward to count.

The card sitting on top of the stack is pale blue with white hydrangeas painted along the edges, and when I open it, her black handwriting is practically illegible. Chicken scratch was what her mom always called it. She should have been a doctor, according to Mel, because only a doctor’s handwriting was as terrible as Britt’s. But Britt hated blood. She hated death. She hated science and numbers and facts. She was a dreamer. A soft, sweet soul who saw the best in everyone, even me, when we didn’t deserve it.

She ran my social media for me in college and eventually became my assistant when I was drafted to Chicago. It was easy. It made sense in a way nothing makes sense now.

Before she died, she made me promise I’d move back to Kroydon Hills.

Made me swear I wouldn’t wait.

That I’d take Bodhi and go give him the life she wanted for him.

Britt wanted Bodhi to grow up with his cousins and aunts and uncles. She wanted holiday traditions. Sleepovers. Birthday parties. She wanted him surrounded by the kind of crazy love she missed growing up with just her and her mom. Hell, she probably expected me to ask for the trade to the Revolution last year, but I couldn’t.

I wasn’t ready to drag Bodhi away from the house that still smelled like his mom. I’m still not sure I’m ready for that, and I already pulled that fucking trigger.

Flipping the card over, I run my finger over her chicken scratch and laugh.

I need one more promise, Hendrix.

Promise me, when you’re ready, after you move home, you’ll read these. And don’t lie to yourself, you need to move home. You already promised me you’d do that, and I’ve never known you to be a liar. Don’t start now.

I love you with all my heart, Hendrix. You’re my best friend, and I wish more than anything that I could be there with you. I wish I was laughing and crying and watching our son grow up. God, how I wish that was in the cards for me. But it is for you.

Okay, so I lied. I need two final promises. Read the cards . . . Not all at once though, okay? Take your time. Make them last.

Time is fleeting. Don’t waste it. Live your life.

Live it for yourself. Live it for our son. And live it for me in a way I never will. Right all the wrongs. Mine and yours. Fix them, Hendrix. Fix them since I can’t.

Stop wasting time. It’s finite. Make every minute count.

Mourn me as Bodhi’s mother, but don’t mourn the love of your life. That was never me. Don’t rewrite history for either one of us. My life was perfect because of you. Because of Bodhi. Now make yours perfect.

XOXO,

Britt

Yeah . . . That’s enough for tonight.

SERENA

Someone recently asked me if I had made plans for the fall.

It took me a minute to realize they meant the season, not the epic failure my life’s become.

—Serena’s Secret Thoughts

Rafe

Hey, little Kingston.

Serena

I have a name.

Rafe

I know, but it’s so much more fun imagining the annoyed look on your face when I don’t use it.