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“Shit,” Brenda breathes out.
“Yeah. Do we just read them?” Hanna looks to each of us.
“That’s up to you, babe,” Brenda tells her, and I nod in agreement.
“Fuck. I hate this. Why is it this way? Why did this have to be my life?” She stands and pushes the drawer shut.
We stay silent, letting her say and feel whatever it is she needs to in order to process this. Brenda and I could never begin to relate, and we shouldn’t pretend like we do. All we can do is help her through whatever is inside those letters. Which could be nothing, or they could be everything.
“We don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready.” Brenda goes to her, but I keep my distance, watching her. I will let her have her space until she needs me. I’m learning her. Learning when she needs support and when she needs time to decompress and figure it out on her own.
“I know that, but if I don’t, I will be driven to madness. And if I do, I just might end up more broken than I already am.”
“Puppet.” My voice is sharp and demanding, and she looks at me.
“Yes?” She aligns with me, feeling me.
“What did I say outside?” She nods. “Come here to me. Brenda. Leave.” This is one of the rare times I’m short with my sister. Hearing the undeniable command in my voice, she moves fast, leaving the room. Hanna and I now stand alone in the middle of JD’s office.
“You need me. I told you to lean on me and depend on me, and you’re not doing it. Are you?”
She shakes her head. Hanna thrives under control. “I do need you. But to what extent? What if I need you too much? What if it scares you, and then you assume I’m falling in love with you?”
I don’t admit my internal thoughts. Since that would mean I’d have to tell her that she’s starting to make me feel things. Not love. It can’t be love. We are still learning, getting to know each other, and we spend most of our time together fucking or in the presence of other people. Slowly, we’re opening up, but this right here, her finding what could be her release or her rabbit hole, this is the most intimate we’ve been.
“I trust you to not cross that line. Needing me obsessively will only match what I feel. Let me be your release. Take your fear, pain, and everything else out on me. Lay it on me; take it out on me in the bedroom. That doesn’t have to blur the lines. That’s what the whole point of us is.” What a great liar and deflector I am. To let this go as far as it has and to feel certain things, just to tell her to not cross lines. I’m such a fucking hypocrite.
“Okay. I’m ready. I want to read whatever is in there.” When she buys my lines, not seeing through me, I hide the sigh of relief so well. Turning, she heads back to the desk and pulls out a stack of the envelopes.
Here we go…
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
HANNA
The envelope is heavy in my hands. It’s daunting, and for what reason? I don’t know, seeing as I’ve been too chicken shit to open it yet. Theo stands beside me where I sit, towering over me. Usually, that would intimidate me and make me nervous, but in this situation, it does the opposite. It makes me feel comforted, and I don’t feel so alone for the first time in a long time. Releasing a deep breath and closing my eyes, I lift the tab of the first letter with my mother’s name on it.
Lizbeth,
Please, just let me talk to her. Let me have time with Hanna. I’ve tried now multiple times, and you’ve cast me out. We haven’t always seen eye to eye, and we may have had our fair share of hardships, but I love you, and I love my granddaughter. Denying me time with her will only cause more damage to her.
What can I do? Saying sorry isn’t enough, and I know that, but I need you to tell me what I can do to just see her. I have a right to see her. You know this. Don’t punish her because of our history. Please. I beg you a thousand times, please, give me a chance to have a relationship. I don’t know what else to say but please.
I still love you. I love you and my granddaughter, and I know you don’t believe it, but it’s true. Hear me. Please.
Love you,
Dad
The tears fall, hitting the ink on the paper and causing it to thin out to the point that it would rip if I’m not careful. I don’t say anything. I instead drop the paper on the desk and reach for the next one, opening it quickly.
