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My heart fills with panic. I can’t accept that this is goodbye.
“Listen to me, babe…I’m not promising anything, okay? Because I’m not sure I’ll be able to deliver. But I am going away to get help, and this time I promise to stick with it… If you need anything, get in touch with Ryder. He’ll know how to contact me.”
He leans forward and kisses me on the forehead, leaving his lips against me before he pulls away. Helping me to my feet, he squeezes my hands, and walks to the front door.
With his hand on the door handle, he looks over his shoulder, and whispers in a broken voice, “I love you.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jace
Three months later…
Every day seems to merge into one and the boredom has really started getting to me. On waking, the day becomes the same as the one that has just passed, and although I’m not the only one staying here, I’ve never felt so alone.
When I first arrived, Mitchell Roberts had greeted me and shown me around his retreat. The place is set back from the main highway by about two miles, and the main buildings are on the bank of a large lake with nothing but clear skies and mountains on the horizon. The cabins are set back in the forest giving us, and anyone visiting, a semblance of privacy.
There are set times to eat, set times to exercise, and set times for counseling—both as a group and privately. Other than that we can pretty much come and go as we please. I’ve seen other guys coming and going, but other than stocking up my own personal supplies, I haven’t gone anywhere.
I still don’t feel that I deserve to go anywhere after what I did to Savannah. I don’t deserve a life with how I took her on the floor like an animal. She doesn’t see it the way that I do, which I can’t understand. She repeatedly says she loves me, even now. She tells Ryder frequently so that I know while I’m here but I still can’t understand how she can.
I’ll always love her with everything in me, but I’m too disgusted with myself to even try and work through what happened with her. Hurting her again would kill me. I feel dead inside after what I’ve already done.
The daily counseling sessions are helping, albeit gradually. Mitchell is easy to talk to, and he listens, which is why I’m more inclined to follow through on what he asks me to do at the end of each session, instead of blowing him off like I’ve done in the past with other counselors. The group sessions haven’t been easy and I’ve yet to talk about my own problems, but I’ve begun to realize that I’m not alone.
Which is why I’m sitting at the small desk in my cabin with a pen in my hand and a sheet of stationery in front of me on the desk. Today’s ‘assignment’ is to write a letter to the person I consider that I’ve done wrong to.
Mitchell won’t allow me to dwell on what I did, and he makes me squirm when he asks me Savannah’s version of events—it took me two weeks to tell him.
He’s made me think, but every time I feel like I’m coming around to Savannah’s way of thinking, my brain shuts down and refuses to accept the version of events any other way.
I’d done it and nothing will ever take that memory away from me, although, I sure as hell wish I could turn back the clock to before that night. And turn it back armed with the knowledge of what I know now.
Sighing with tiredness, I realize that no matter how many times I go over it all in my head, the outcome is always the same…and I’ll always hate myself for it.
So what do I write to the woman I love?
Savannah
I make myself a cup of coffee before retreating to the living room. I’ve been on edge ever since Ryder came by to see how I was doing, and to leave the letter with me. There is only one word scrawled on the front of the envelope, Savannah. I would know his handwriting anywhere, and although my first thought was to rip it open to see what he’d written, I’d placed it to the side until Ryder had left. I’d wanted privacy because I know whatever is written on the paper will cause my tears to flow.
My heartache is there over the loss of Jace, and no matter how many times I tell myself, ‘at least he’s still alive’, the pain won’t leave.
I know my uncle and friends are all concerned for me because I’ve lost weight, but I can’t find a way to reassure them. Instead, I go through life a shell of what I used to be…and it’s obvious with the bags under my eyes that I’m not sleeping well. But I’m trying. I really am.
And now I have a letter from Jace.
My fingers caress over the ink of my name that he’s written so beautifully on the envelope sitting in my lap. I wish that it were his skin and not his letter that was beneath my hand. My poor heart is fluttering in my chest with hope. Hope that he’s going to be coming back to me.
Until I open the letter, I’m not going to know.
Placing my cup of coffee onto the side table, I turn back to the letter and turn it over in my hands. After hugging it to my chest, and with a slight tremble to my hands, I tear the envelope open.
Looking inside, I pull out the cream colored paper, and with my heart full of hope, I unfold the letter.
Dear Savannah,
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve tried to write you this letter and nothing I say is being written as I’d like. So please bear with me.
