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“It was not controlling and sneaky. I had every right.” His eyes widened, as if he’d forgotten something.
“Max?” I reached for him.
“I have something to show you.”
Surprise rippled through me. “Now?”
He nodded. “It’s important.”
“Yeah, okay.”
He leaped off the bed, bare ass a complete distraction. Suddenly, he stopped and turned back. “Wes?”
“Hm?”
He caught my face in his palms and looked into my eyes. “I love you too, baby.”
I smiled.
His face screwed up. “But go wash your face. It’s crusty.”
I slapped his hands away. “I wonder whose fault that is.”
Laughing under his breath, he pulled me up off the bed. “Let me kiss your crusty face.”
I rubbed it on him extra just because.
He patted my ass and handed me my boxers before I went into the adjoining bathroom to clean up.
When I came back, he was sitting on the end of the bed. A small lamp in the corner was lit, and a folded sheet of paper was grasped in his hands.
My stomach dipped, a sudden nervous feeling filling me up and making my fingers quiver.
I moved farther into the room, stepping close to where he sat. “Is that what you wanted to show me?” My voice was hushed.
The paper, though thin and folded, seemed to have so much presence in this room. It commanded my attention in a way little else could.
Max lifted his eyes, our stares meeting. There was so much emotion in his that I forgot to breathe. After a quiet moment, he extended the paper between us.
Anxiety clenched my heart, and I sought his gaze once more. When I found it, he nodded.
“It’s okay, baby. Take it.”
My trust in him overruled everything else, so I accepted the offering, unfolded the paper, and looked down.
40
Max
My Sons,Max & Wes,
This is not a letter I ever planned to write, so forgive me if it’s ineloquent and lacking in everything you need to hear. But circumstances have forced my hand and convinced me even if what I’m about to say seems… unfathomable, I would rather be wrong versus not saying something you might desperately someday need.
First, I am so very sorry that your father and I are leaving you alone like this. It’s not fair, and you deserve better. I wanted better for all three of my boys. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll make it to the point in your life when I could sit down and tell you this to your sweet faces, so please know that what I’m writing is directly from my heart. Also, know that I love you three more than life itself. More than you could ever know. I am so proud of you boys no matter what. Follow your dreams and your heart wherever that might take you. Life is so very short, so spend it on things that mean the most to you.
My sweet Max, the son of my heart. It doesn’t matter that you are not my blood. You’re something far more important. From the moment Win brought you home, you were mine. Mine and your dad’s. We love you just as much as Win and Wes, and I hope you know that. I’m so very sorry that we couldn’t get you away from those people sooner. I know you’re aware of how vindictive your father is. We were always so afraid he would make it so we couldn’t see you at all. We did ask him once long ago, pleaded with him actually, to let us adopt you. He wouldn’t hear of it. Eventually, we convinced him to allow you to live with us (okay, we blackmailed him, but I don’t regret it) under the condition we didn’t tell anyone so everyone thought he was a better father than he could ever be. You deserved better, my love, and I’m sorry we couldn’t protect you better. There were days when I raged and plotted his murder, days when I cried myself to sleep. But you proved to be stronger than all of us, and it’s been a joy to watch you grow into the man you are. I’m proud of you, Maxen, for being everything in spite of that man.
As time went on, I became grateful we weren’t able to make the adoption official. It became quite clear you were meant to be my “official” son another way. You and Win have always been inseparable. But you and Wes, it was always something more. Perhaps it’s just the musings of a woman fading from life, but I would dare to say you’re fated. It was always Wes you sought when you were at your most tired and angry. It was always Wes that your eyes tracked across any room. The nightlight he insisted upon was not because my brave boy was afraid of the dark but because he wanted you to find your way. Your father and I stopped pushing the adoption issue many years ago because it would only complicate the love I saw blooming between you. We grew to believe your love for Wes will someday make it official.
