As the prick of tears begins to burn the backs of my eyes, I feel delicate fingers reach forward and squeeze my hand. Not long after the soft tuft of fur brushes mine and Rhoden’s joined hands, and a small smile fills my lips as I’m reminded that no matter how I might feel right now, I’m not on this journey alone.
Trying to keep myself from thinking about Braxton lasted one hour. One single hour, and I’m caving, practically throwing mybody on the ground to retrieve the letter. To Rhoden’s credit, she did try to wrestle the letter away from me once she saw me diving for it.
“Azalea! You’re stronger than this.” She chastised through gritted teeth while trying to pry my fist open.
Sky’s Divine I’m weak. I shake her hand off.
“No I’m not. Let me read it once.”
Rhoden throws herself back on the seat with a huff. “Only if you let me burn it after.”
“Fine.” I would have agreed to just about anything if it meant I got to read the letter scorching my mind. The smooth parchment rustles as I unfold it, smoothing out the crumpled ridges that now mar some of the inked words Braxton wrote.
Wildflower,
I don’t know how to say goodbye to you. It’s not something I ever thought I would have to do. It was something I prayed would never happen, but I can’t keep you as my antidote when I’m your poison.
Know that this isn’t me giving you up. It’s me giving you life because you deserve that, even if it’s away from me. Whatever is left of my heart, you’re taking it with you. You’ve always had it, even when you didn’t know that you did.
I wish I could tell you everything. More than that, I wish you could remember everything. I want you to remember me for the man I was in the before, not the monster you’ve seen me become in the after.
Please know that whether I’m man or monster, I will always be yours. Even when you don’t want me. Even when you think I don’t want you. I will always be yours. Forever. Until my last breath.
I hope you get to live now that I’ve set you free from me. You are a rare flower that deserves to bloom freely instead of being plucked and planted somewhere in a cage.
I hope you bloom, Wildflower. If nothing else, I hope you bloom.
- Braxton
I blink away the mist in my eyes when I get to the end of the letter, scanning over his words again and again. I know this is a letter I will never let go of, even though half of it feels like a riddle.
With my fingers tracing the words, I can’t help but feel there is something familiar about them. Not in what was said per se, but in the writing itself.
My mind flashes back to the only other note Braxton wrote to me and delivered with a bouquet of forget-me-nots. I recall thinking that note wast a letter from Phillip at first, and then, a gasp is expelled out of me with such force I can see the corners of Braxton’s letter fold backwards.
My fingers reach for the box of Phillips letters I brought into the carriage with me. I wanted them close by in case I changed my mind and considered going back to the castle, but now I wondered if they would serve the exact opposite purpose.
Grabbing the first letter Phillip ever wrote me from the top of the stack, I unfold it next to Braxton’s.
It’s the same. The handwriting is the same. Every loop, every curve, every dot of ink is the same. Phillip never wrote me a single letter. It was Braxton. Only Braxton.
“Turn around.” The command is soft as it leaves my lips. “Turn around,” I repeat louder, my eyes still fixed on the letters and the clarity they hold. “Turn around!” I shout this time, but still don’t feel the carriage change course.
Rhoden looks at me confused, but with a huff, she turns her body around and begins smacking her palm flatly against the small pane of glass acting as a barrier between us and the coachman.
“Turn around!” she yells, and Luna barks loudly to join in on the ruckus.
“We’re going back to the castle,” I tell her.
Rhoden’s eyes round with shock. “We are?”
I nod once, and I don’t miss the low whine that rumbles out of Rhoden’s throat. The carriage stops, and the coachmen slides the small window open, looking at me quizzically.
“Prince Braxton had—”
I hold up my hand to stop him. “I don’t care. Either turn this carriage around, or I’m getting out and I’ll walk. Either way, I’m getting back to that castle.”
When he continues to hesitate, Rhoden fully turns to face him. A low growl rumbles out of Luna as her hackles raise, and Rhoden smiles.
