I wrap my arm around the front of her, and she rests her hands on mine and leans back. To have this woman in my armsagain…it’s fate. We stare out and appreciate the view—a white sandy beach lined with palm trees. The water shimmers under the sunlight, and there’s boats gliding along the water. There’s the faint sound of waves and a gentle breeze—this is paradise.
“I really need this fresh ocean air.” She shuts her eyes and absorbs it all—the sun and the breeze. “I’m grateful to be feeling better. I don’t want to miss anything else on this vacation.”
I dip my head and gently kiss her cheek. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, too.”
Moving slightly to the side, I dig the letter out of my pocket; it was written eleven years ago. With a deep breath, I put it into her hands.
Here goes nothing.
TWENTY-SIX
FAITH
I freeze when Jude gives me a folded piece of paper that resembles a letter. I turn my head and upper body to steal a glance at him. I unfold it, and with a shaky hand, I read it.
Faith,
It’s been seven months since the last time I spoke to you, but it feels like a lifetime ago. I miss the hell out of you and know it’s all my fault that I’m not sitting in front of you right now. I’ve regretted my decision from the moment I made it. I don’t know how to live my life without you. I’m stuck. You are the love of my life, and I let a lot of things get in the way of that. It wasn’t fair to you and knowing that I was the one to break us makes it that much harder.
I’m struggling a lot right now. The guilt I carry goes beyond the breakup. I know I wasn’t there for you whenyou needed me. I can’t even explain why I didn’t turn around when you called and told me about the pregnancy. I should have been there for you.
My snowboarding crash crushed my dreams. I had surgery, and it was worse than I imagined. Now I’m stuck at home doing shitty physical therapy for six months with too much time on my hands. I haven’t stopped thinking about how I want you here. Breaking up with you and focusing on what I wanted (and what my friends said—not trying to blame anyone else, I’m fully responsible for all my decisions). I’m hurting, too, and I have no one but myself to blame.
I hope you are doing well, and you’re thriving in life. I hope you have everything you’ve ever wanted, including an amazing first year of college. And I hope, one day, I’ll have the courage to mail this letter to you.
One day.
Know you’re on my mind every day, and I’m so sorry for all the hurt, the pain, and for leaving you. I hope you remember me, too. Until we meet again, my love, you are my everything.
Loving You Always,
Jude
I wipe away the never-ending stream of tears. Life can be so harsh. Jude holds me tightly, and he’s emotional, too. Allthis time, I believed he had forgotten me and everything we experienced together. But he was hurting, too.
“Jude, this is...” I curl into him with tears streaming down my cheek, seeking comfort in his arms. The letter drives a knife through my heart, reigniting the pain. Reading his words brings a new kind of hurt.
Clearing his throat, he says, “Faith, you are my everything.”
I can sense the struggle in his voice, and my tears drench his shirt. The tears for our lost time, for this moment, for our loss, for everything that’s happened. This trip, this reconnection, is unfolding in ways I never expected. I cling to him, unwilling to let go, as a flood of memories rushes through my mind—all the wonderful moments we’ve shared.
“I wanted to show you, not just tell you, what was going on in my life. That letter is the only way I knew how to show you,” he says, and his head nestles deeper into my neck as his hands rub my back.
“I understand.” The sobbing eases, and the tears stop. I regain my composure and say, “This reminds me of how it was between us when things were good. It only took over a decade and a resort getaway.” I’m cherishing this special moment spent with Jude.
We slowly pull away, our eyes meet and lock, and the world around us fades away as we become lost in each other. His lips suddenly meet mine with force, and everything else disappears. It’s as if we are the only two people in existence. His kiss pulls away the hurt and pain I’ve been carrying. I feel the barriers around my heart breaking away, leaving me exposed.
As I looked down at his shirt, I ended up making a mess of it. He takes it off, and oh my! It takes everything inside of me not to run my fingers all over his chiseled chest. Those tattoos cover every inch of his upper body and arms. A flush of warmth creeps up my neck and spreads across my cheeks. He had his fingersinside of me, and now I’m blushing at his chest. I shake my head at myself.
He pulls out his phone, and suddenly “Iris” by Goo Goo Dolls plays from it. It’s our first kiss song, so of course it’s tugging at my heartstrings. He gently holds my hips and lifts me up. I wrap my arms around his neck as he snakes both of his arms around my waist. We are flush against each other as we slow dance. We sway back and forth as the music penetrates my heart. I breathe in his fresh rain scent as I rest my head against his chest, soaking up every single second of our time together.
Back in the day, the only time he would slow dance with me was when I insisted. I giggle at the memory. He gives my ass a playful squeeze, which presses me further into his body.
“That’s what you get for laughing!” He chuckles and glides his hands ever so gently up my waist, resting his thumbs just beneath my breasts. My nipples tighten and could cut glass at this point. He rubs his thumbs back and forth. Then he tickles me, and I squirm while trying to get out of his grip; it’s no use.
I stare up at him. “Please stop tickling me! Also, why would you think I was laughing at you?” My hand moves to his face, and I get up on my tiptoes. We gaze into each other’s eyes.
“Even after all this time, I know you. I’m sure you were thinking back to all those dances when you had to beg me to slow dance with you.”
