“Why don’t you join us for dinner on Sunday?” Jaxon says.
“Oh. I wouldn’t want to impose.”
His face pulls into the crooked grin I’ve come to love so much. “You sound just like your sister. Any family of Callie’s is a part of our family, too.”
My heart warms as the man I love builds a bridge between the family I was born into and the one who chose me. If he didn’t already have my entire heart, he might've just stolen a piece right then and there.
“If you’re sure.” She slides the device into her pocket and stands. “It’s just Lexi and me. We’ve been on our own for a long time.”
I stand and reach for her on instinct. “Not anymore. We’re going to take care of each other from here on out. We didn’t have a choice back then, but we do now.”
There’s a slight tremble in her chin. “You forgive me?”
I give her hands a reassuring squeeze. It’s strange to be on the other side of things—to be the one offering comfort when I was always the one who needed it most. “There’s nothing to forgive. It wasn’t your fault.”
She wraps her arms around me, and I return the embrace. We stay like that for a long moment, letting the past roll away like the waning tide. None of it matters now. There’s no villain in this story anymore, just two people whose lives were marred by sorrow. Our paths may have diverted at one time, but I believe we were always meant to find each other again.
“I have to go,” she whispers. “It’s good to see you again, Copycat.”
“Bye, Cici.”
Her breath hitches, and when she pulls back, her eyes are sparkling. “See you later.”
Once she’s gone, I sit down beside Jaxon and let my eyes stray to the envelope still sitting in the middle of the table.
“Do you want to open it?” Jaxon asks.
“I’m not sure. I don’t want to give her any more of my time, but…”
“But you want closure.”
“Yeah.”
He slides the envelope across the table, placing it in frontof me. The edges are creased and yellowing with age. It feels like it has some strange energy emanating from it—or maybe that’s my nerves, but it’s unsettling to say the least. I pick it up and turn it over in my hands.
Jaxon sweeps my hair back and presses a soft kiss to my temple. His lips linger for a few seconds. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.”
I lift the flap and pull out a folded sheet of lined paper. The handwriting is a little wobbly, like her hand was shaking when she wrote it. There are a few smudges in the ink from tears that have long since dried, but I don’t know if they belonged to my mom or to Clio. My heart squeezes at the thought of my sister reading this alone, tears running down her cheeks.
I swallow thickly and read my mother’s parting words.
To my daughters, Clio and Calliope,
I’m dying. The cancer has spread from my liver to the rest of my body and I only have a short time left on this earth.
No apology in the world is enough to make up for what I put you through, but I have to try. So here it is: I’m sorry.
When your daddy passed away, I lost myself. The grief was too much to bear, and instead of pouring my love into my daughters, I drowned it with alcohol. I met Rodney whenI was at my lowest, and he offered me companionship. I thought loneliness was the worst pain a person could endure. He showed me otherwise.
By the time I realized I’d made a mistake, I was too far gone to care. And when his anger turned on you, I did the unthinkable. I let it happen. I let his hatred fester and grow until I wasn’t just the victim, I was the abuser, too. I was complicit in everything that happened, and I deeply regret the role I played.
Wherever this letter finds you, I hope you are well. I hope you’re living a fulfilling life full of joy and love and all of the wonderful things life has to offer. I had that for a while when it was the four of us. Before your daddy died. He was a wonderful man, and an even better father. I want that for you. I want you to find people who love you and take care of you the way I should have.
Clio: You would be 25 years old now and I should have a granddaughter, too, if Rodney was telling the truth. You stepped up for Calliope when I couldn’t. I know you’ll be a better mother than I was. Love her unconditionally and cherish the time you have with her. They grow up too quickly.
Calliope: My little Cinderella with her fairytale dreams and her head in the clouds. I hope you find your prince charming and get the happily ever after you deserve. I’m sorry you lost your sister because of me. I wish I could be a better mother for you.
