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We traded stories of our time apart. Together, we dug into pieces of our past, something we’d never done.
I told her about all the albums, and watching all the film, trying to unearth some hidden truth about why I acted the way I did.
I told her about my freakout in front of the house when we got back, and her eyes filled with tears.
I told her about the letter and how I hadn’t read it yet.
She pressed a kiss onto the skin above my heart. “There’s no rule book for grief. I think you should read it whenever feels right.”
Wedging a hand behind my head, I rose up just enough to give her a lingering kiss. Then I tilted my head toward my suitcase, set against the wall. “It’s in there.”
She blew out a breath. “Do you want some privacy?”
“Privacy?” I growled under my breath. I rolled to my side and tugged her into my arms. She pushed her legs in between mine as we kissed again. “Woman, I’m not letting you out of my sight for days.”
She laughed against my mouth. “Good.”
“I’m ready to read it,” I told her. “I wanted to wait until you were with me.”
The amazing thing about Charlotte’s eyes was how clearly I could see her heart in them. She was unbearably touched.
“I made peace with the fact that Chris trusted me with this place. So did Amie. And no matter what that letter says, it doesn’t change that.”
“And if they want you to sell it? Set the money aside for Mira?” she asked.
My chest expanded on a deep breath. “Then we’ll find another place to live.”
“Simple as that?”
I looked around the bedroom, at the circular window in the peak of the ceiling. Where we were lying on the floor was where I had imagined the four-poster bed. But we could create that feeling anywhere, if we needed to. “You’re my home, Charlotte.” I kissed her softly, brushing my tongue over hers. “Simple as that.”
Her eyes shifted. Now she was unbearably turned on. I skated my hand over her hip, the curve of her backside. “Not now. Get that look off your face.”
She emitted a soft laugh. “I can’t help it.”
“Will you get the letter from the front of my suitcase?”
Charlotte hummed. “Knee bothering you?”
“No,” I said against her lips. “I just want to watch you walk naked across the room.”
She pinched my stomach, and I laughed while she tossed the blankets off, strode shamelessly to my suitcase and back.
I propped my head on my hands and watched. She rolled her eyes as she tossed the letter onto my chest.
I sat up, tugging the quilt over my legs. We scooted back until we sat propped up against the wall. Charlotte wound her fingers through mine, bringing my hand to her lips for a sweet kiss.
The edges of the envelope were worn from hours of handling it. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to break open the seal.
“I wish I could’ve known him better,” she whispered.
I kissed the top of her head when she rested it on my shoulder. “Me too.”
With careful tugs, I opened the envelope. The sight of the blue ink had my chest feeling tight. I blew out a slow breath.
Burke,
I hope you don’t read this letter for another fifty years. I hope I’m old and cranky and I’ve lost all my hair, dying peacefully in my sleep, surrounded by the people I love.
