I suck in a quivering breath while blinking like a crazy person to keep my sight from blurring.
I need you to listen to me. Okay?
I know your love language is acts of service, but girl, you need to start putting yourself first. Please. Do it for me.
Don’t weave your entire life around Lainey. I want you to love my daughter and be a mother to her, but I also want you to be happy.
If you haven’t yet, go to Easton and tell him you love him. I promise your heart will be safe with him. He’ll never hurt you, and he’ll give you the life you deserve.
A sob bursts over my lips, and I have to stop reading for a moment.
I’ve been wishing that I could talk to Rachel because I knew she would tell me what to do, and all this time, this letter has been lying on her dressing table.
Rachel understood me so well.
And while I’m asking favors, can you do me a big one? Can you always show Easton and Lainey to appreciate the little things so they don’t get swept up in all the glam?
Love them, Nova. Love them for both of us.
Also, you’ll see I’ve packed all my clothes. You’re welcome to take whatever you want. Especially the Dolce & Gabbana dress I wore to the Oscars when Easton won Best Actor. It’s my favorite, and I think you’ll look beautiful in it.
And for the love of God, please use my handbags. I spent a lot of time building the collection. Just let Lainey have the first pick, then you can go crazy. I hope you’ll think of me when you wear my clothes.
I think that’s everything.
If there is a way for me to watch over you, I’ll find it, so if you feel a sudden burst of love, that’s me hugging you.
I love you, Nova.
Thank you for being my best friend until the end.
Rach.
With tissues squashed to my nose, I reread the letter over and over while I sob my heart out.
I lie down on her bed and press my face into her pillow. Smelling Rachel, a sense of calm washes over me, and my sobs eventually lessen.
I promise I’ll live every day to the fullest in memory of you, Rach.
I take a few more breaths of her scent before I sit up again. I carefully tuck my letter back into the envelope. Climbing off the bed, I grab Easton’s letter and leave the room.
I head downstairs, and when I get close to the couch, Easton glances up. Instantly, worry tightens his features. “What’s wrong?”
I hold the envelope out to him. “Rachel wrote you a letter. I was going through the flash drives and envelopes when I found them.”
“Them?”
“She wrote one for me as well, hence my swollen eyes.”
He sets the script down, and while he takes the envelope, he stands up. “Thanks, Nova.”
I watch as he walks out onto the veranda before I take a seat on the couch.
Easton
I stare at Rachel’s handwriting, trying to build up the courage to read her last words to me. Over the past few weeks, I’ve done my best not to break down because I know she would have hated it.
I open the letter, and the instant I begin to read, my jaw clenches hard, and tears prick my eyes.
