My breathing turns broken as I try to focus my attention on something else. I reach my hands around Danny’s back and work his shirt up so I can peel it off. He pulls away with a grin and allows me to slide it off without helping. His skin is warm and smooth, wrapped around his taut muscles below my fingers that seem permanently cold here in Delaware, even now that it’s summer.
Danny’s lips glide along my jaw, down to my neck, missing the back of my ear, a spot Max used to focus on because he knew the effect it had on me. I open my eyes as the mental image of Max invades my thoughts and notice a bird sitting on a branch outside the window. It stares at me, cocking its head to the side. I can almost hear it asking me why I’m paying attention to it rather than the guy that’s just unlatched my bra.
I turn my head from the window and the judgmental bird and close my eyes again, focusing on the slight hint of desire racing through my limbs as Danny places a trail of kisses below my ribs.
Then I hear the rip of a motorcycle and with it I suddenly feel my arms wrapped around Max’s waist, the warmth of the sun on my bare arms from when we rode to the park together and feel his thumb brushing mine as we sat next to each other and finally professed our feelings. My thoughts move to the sight of him following me to my apartment on his motorcycle with the street lamps along the interstate dancing over him, as if they too were anxious to touch him and disappointed to let him go.
My eyes open again and Danny’s propped up on his arms on either side of my shoulders, staring down at me.
“Where’d you go, H?”
Before I can respond, tears cloud my eyes and I close them in defeat.
“Babe, it’s okay. What’s wrong?”
“I’m going to hurt you,” I whisper. “I’ve already hurt you.”
“I’ll wait. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.”
“I don’t have anything left to give.” I take a deep breath. “You deserve everything. You deserve someone that is going to give you every single ounce of themself to you. Every smile, every laugh, every thought, every hope, and every tear, because you’re worth every piece.”
Danny places his forehead to mine, and we quietly breathe each other’s air.
“I wish I had met you first.”
My throat constricts as more tears run hot trails down my temples. I nod silently, wishing he had too in a way. I wish I could love Danny as completely and consuming as I had Max, but I also know that if I hadn’t met Max first, there’s a chance I never would have had the strength to survive this year because he helped me learn so much about myself before I even realized it.
We lie in silence until Danny stands up and I follow him, my head throbbing as I reach for his hand, knowing that this is the last time I’ll hold it. A strangled cry rips from my throat as I clutch tighter to him.
Danny seems to understand this too as he wraps his arm around my shoulders and presses me to him. Still holding my hand, he wraps his elbow around the back of my neck and holds me as I cry.
After a while, he walks me downstairs and outside, still seeming as reluctant as I am to let me go.
“I love you, Danny. I wish that was enough.”
“Me too,” he whispers against my lips before he presses his mouth to mine.
I try with every last ounce of effort to give my heart to him.
But I can’t.
I’m learning your mind can’t force your heart to love anyone, regardless of how perfect they are and how much you want to. Max taught me that before I even understood it, when my heart willingly gave itself to him.
“How are you feeling, Harper?”
“Drained.”
“Because you’re still feeling guilty about Danny?”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to give me emotions?”
Kitty gives me a half smile and sets her pen down.
“I’ve been wondering what my dad would say. What his advice to me would be.”
“What do you think he’d say?”
“I don’t know,” I admit in a whisper. “I think I’m forgetting him because I have no idea what he’d say.” I use my knuckle to wipe away a tear. “I’m forgetting him and it terrifies me.”
“Harper, you aren’t forgetting him. You’re living your life. That’s what he would have wanted, trust me. I know that I’m going to die, and when I do, I don’t want you, or my children, or Jeff to constantly focus on my memory, feeling guilty for living because I’m not. I want you to live. Even if you get one hundred years on this beautiful planet, it still goes too fast. You must live in the present, live for today and the future. Live because your dad can’t. You owe him that respect. Remember his love and carry that with you for the rest of your life, but let the guilt and the fear go, Harper, otherwise you’re not living; you’re merely surviving.”
Tears course down my cheeks and my nose runs as her words hit me.
“You need to open his letter and get some closure.”
“I think for a really long time I thought Max would wait for me. I know that’s selfish and probably even childish, but I guess I just hoped this would all get sorted out somehow and things would go back to normal.”
“There are very few things in this world that we can consider normal. Life is not one of them.”
“I just miss him. I still miss him.”
“Because you don’t feel that you can be yourself without him?”
“Because I feel like he brought out a better side of me. He introduced me to things I never would have ever done on my own.”
“The crazy situations?” she asks, brushing her skirt out as her legs cross.
“Yeah, I mean I did things with Max that I never would have done.”
“Harper, I want you to think about that story you told me about skinny dipping, TP’ing your neighbor’s house with Kendall, and moving out to Delaware. Those aren’t things many people would do because they’re scary. You have the strength to do crazy. You’ve had it all along. Max just helped you recognize it.”
I wake from another nightmare. They returned shortly after I returned to Delaware. I pad out to my living room and rather than sitting on my new couch, I sit on the floor beside a large box marked Dad and slowly open the flaps. I sift through things that elicit both tears and laughter.
I call Fitz when I pull out my letter. He’s sat through far too many of my tears over the last several weeks as I’ve worked to recover from losing Danny, but he willingly comes again when I call and ask him to help me read my letter because I’m finally ready.
My fingers tremble as I carefully open it so that I don’t tear it or create any creases. My chin quivers and my eyes fill with tears as the papers unfold. His hand writing feels like a sentiment, like he left a small piece of himself here with me.
Dear Ace,
Some years these letters are so difficult to write because there’s so much going on, I can’t even fathom not being around. It was your mother’s idea to begin writing to you girls each year with the unlikely chance that something ever happens to one or both of us and we’re not there to say goodbye. In your first letter I wrote an entire page on how that came to be, so if you’re actually reading this and want to know more, you’ll find all of your letters in your safe deposit box at the bank. Likely this letter will join the others at the end of the year, adding to the stack that one day, far, far in the future, I hope you’ll enjoy looking back and reminiscing all the good times we’ve shared.
On the rare instance something has indeed happened and you’re reading this letter, I’m sorry, Ace. I’m so sorry.
My eyes flood with so many tears I have to move the letter back so they can’t fall and obscure the ink. I let out a deep breath and feel Fitz’s hand travel across my shoulders with quiet assurance before my eyes continue.