As his brother spoke, a tremendous weight lifted from Colt’s shoulders. And for the second time in forty-eight hours, unshed tears pooled in his eyes.
All these years, he’d operated under a solitary—and faulty—assumption.
But in hindsight, he wouldn’t necessarily do anything differently. He appreciated his wealth of experiences.
But looking forward…
His new perspective could change everything.
Chapter 27
As Penny clutched the smooth, white envelope in her hand, it felt almost hot to the touch, as if the words inside were burning to get out.
The long-awaited moment left her breathless, poised on the edge of a proverbial precipice—once she jumped, she couldn’t turn back.
But Cassie’s wisdom resonated with a simple truth—time on this earth wasn’t a guarantee. And the mere thought of never reading her father’s letter made her heart break.
In preparation, she’d drawn the curtains in his office for the first time since he’d passed away. Sunlight filtered through the filmy glass, highlighting specks of dust dancing in the air.
Penny smiled, recalling how her father once told her the tiny particles were microscopic fairies. She’d pranced around the apartment trying to capture them in a glass jar, giggling as they darted out of reach. Of course, she never did catch one. But looking back, she realized that was never really the point.
Seated at his desk, she withdrew a silver letter opener. Her fingers trembled as she inserted the sharp tip in the top right corner. Inhaling a deep breath, she tried to steady her hand. With a quick flick of her wrist, she broke the seal, the gentle tear echoing in her eardrums.
Suddenly overcome with emotion, she placed the envelope and opener on the desk, and sprang from her seat with anxious energy. Wringing her hands, she paced the threadbare carpet, gazing up at the ceiling as she fought back tears.
In the next few minutes, she had so much to lose and everything to gain.
Wrestling with her tumultuous thoughts, she exhaled slowly before sitting back down.
Gingerly, she removed a single sheet of paper from its resting place. As she unfolded it, ironing out the creases against the flat surface of the tabletop, silent tears dampened the page.
Her father’s handwriting greeted her like a welcome-home hug after a long absence—its emotional resonance bittersweet.
As she read, she kept one hand on the letter, one hand clasped over her mouth to restrain a rising sob.
The letter was dated the day before he died.
Sweet P,
I want to start by telling you how incredibly proud I am of the woman you’ve become. Not only are you gracious and kind, beautiful inside and out, but you’re braver than I ever imagined. Especially after everything I taught you to fear. I can only assume that despite my shortcomings, a bit of your mother’s adventurous light sparked somewhere deep inside of you. And for that, I’m eternally grateful.
Never lose that light, Sweet P. Just be careful you don’t let it burn out of control or it will consume you like a wildfire, destroying everything in its path. Much like it did to your mother.
I’m writing this letter as a confession, of sorts. A means of accountability to do the right thing, despite my trepidation regarding the outcome. Whatever happens, you deserve to know the truth behind my efforts.
After all these years, I’ve never stopped loving your mother or pursuing her. And just before your fourth birthday, I learned she’d been living in a women’s shelter in Starcross Cove, just a few hours away.
The words blurred on the page as Penny choked back a sob, tears searing her eyes.The women’s shelter… the beach where she’d built a sandcastle with Colt…Her temples throbbed as she struggled to make sense of the jumbled pieces.
Forcing the air in and out of her lungs with ragged breaths, she concentrated on the rest of the letter.
As much as it breaks my heart to admit this to you, your mother’s thirst for adventure led her down a dark path of substance abuse and dangerous choices. But she’d finally sought help. Hearing the news gave me extraordinary hope. And like two brave knights on a quest, you and I left Poppy Creek to bring her back home.
As you can guess, our expedition didn’t go quite as I’d planned. When we arrived, I learned she’d had another child with someone else, less than a year after she’d left us. And she had no interest in rejoining our family.
Penny’s chest rose and fell with each racking sob as she realized the two girls in the photograph weren’t merely strangers bound to her by childhood daydreams, so lifelike they felt like a memory. All this time, her father had kept a secret hidden in plain sight. And she wasn’t sure how she’d ever forgive him for that.
At the time, you were too young to remember or grasp the significance of that day. And I chose to keep it a secret with the belief I was protecting you from insurmountable pain. But now as you’re away at college, braving the world on your own, I realize what an untenable mistake I made. Lacking my own courage, I’d underestimated your strength.
