“Thanks. I appreciate that.” He chuckles lightly, his gorgeous smile trapping my gaze. The Aussie charm he mentioned must be working in full force right now, because my heart once again betrays me, skipping like a schoolgirl.
“I’ll be back.Maybe.”
“I’ll be here.”
I nod, turning to walk away until Mason calls out, making me wince.
“None of it’s fake, Jenna. Not that letter in your hand, and not our time together this past week. It’s allreal. Remember that while you’re trying to hate me.”
My steps falter, but I don’t look back, refusing to let him see how much he affects me. He lied to me. But he’s here. He left Australia. Left Jack. He finally did something for himself and it was forme.
I hold my head high until I make it to my bed, collapsing in a heap the second my knees hit the mattress, tossing the letter out of reach.
Why am I struggling so much? This isn’t me. I’ve never let anyone else dictate my feelings. Except my mom. And she earned that right after twenty-seven years of a relationship.
I’ve known Mason for four freaking days. Four.
But… No, no freaking buts.
Lifting my head, my eyes lock on Mason’s handwriting on the letter and I physically wince.How is it possible that I never noticed the difference?
My mind whirs as I study the envelope, my fingers itching to stretch out and grab it while my heart holds me back.
What could he possibly say to fix this? He lied. He lives thousands of miles away. Nothing written in this little package will change any of that.
But I can’t let it go.
Jumping up, I rip through the envelope as though I despise it and stare at the paper inside, my pulse picking up speed when I didn’t think that was possible.
Taking a deep breath, I open the letter and immediately snort at the mistletoe drawing in the top corner.
As reluctant as I am to admit it, I needed to laugh at this moment, and I’ll bet he freaking knew that.
Dear Jenna,
Thank fuck you’re actually reading this. Of all the letters I’ve written to you, this was by far the hardest.
The letters... the fucking letters. I’m sorry I never told you what I’d done. That wasn't fair. What I’mnotsorry about is that I wrote to you in the first place. It’s not something I’ll ever regret.
In the beginning, it wasn’t my choice, but it only took one letter for me to feel a connection to you. Actually no, it was one sentence and you sucked me right in. You’d written...
‘Sometimes I wonder if anyone can truly survive this cruel world we live in. Then I think “fuck it,” I’m going to give it all I’ve got.’
The truth is, I’ve been falling for you since the first letter I read almost seven years ago.
And now that I’ve met you, I’m not sure you see how amazing you are. Yes, you’re confident and strong, but there’s more to you that you seem to brush off or hide behind a veil.
Like the way you follow a compliment with something positive about the giver, never wanting to be the one to outshine them. You’re unapologetic when it comes to your goals, yet apologise profusely if you forget a tiny detail about a friend, even if it’s something you were never expected to remember.
You’re loyal and caring while still seeing through people faster than most. And you’re so goddamn driven that it awes me. You wanted to be an actress and you damn well did it. You followed your dreams, allowing me to live vicariously through your success.
Jenna, I wanted you before you showed up at my house, before you were famous… Hell, I wanted you before I’d seen your face.
There were times in my life when your letters were my vice, the only things keeping me positive in my otherwise fucked-up world.
I never wanted to hurt you, and I never set out to get you into bed. If anything, I tried hard to actively avoid that.
You deserve better than a man who lost his passion for life living on the other side of the world, but I couldn’t let you go without telling you the truth.
