The moment I step inside, the noise from outside fades to nothing. I head down the hallway to my room, my shoulders tensing as my heartbeat quickens. The timing isn’t perfect with everyone here; maybe I should wait, but she’s here. And I want to show her that I’m trying to be better—for her, for all of them.
One day, I’m going to hold these letters and be grateful for them. My palms won’t grow sweaty, my shoulders won’t snap tight. I’ll reach for them on purpose, turn the envelopes over like they’re something I want. I’ll crave the sound of her voice in my head, want to see the shape of her handwriting. I won’t flinch at the thought of handing Halle hers. But right now? All I want is a flame big enough to swallow them whole. To rip them apart until there’s nothing left to remember.
“Hey.”
Her voice drifts in, curling around me, loosening something tight in my chest as a slow breath slips out. The mattress dips as she settles beside me. Her hand—warm,and soft—finds mine, threading our fingers together. We sit for a moment in nothing but silence, but it isn’t uncomfortable. It’s steadying. Her breaths come in small and even, and her thumb traces slow circles against my skin, pulling me back into my body.
“I figured… since we’re both here, we could open the next one before I go to work.”
She tilts her head. “Are you sure you want to, with everyone else around?”
“No,” I admit, a tight laugh caught in my throat. “But it’s been a couple of weeks. I think I need to.”
“Okay, I won’t go anywhere.” Her voice softens as she leans in, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
With a shaky breath, I work my thumb under the envelope flap and open it, pulling out the single piece of paper. That familiar ache tightens in my chest as I unfold the page. The words blur for a second, my hands tremble, but it’s Madi’s warmth that steadies me. Her lingering touch is the only reason I manage to start reading.
Hunter,
She misses you.
The days and weeks are starting to pile up. She doesn’t know why you left, and I don’t want to tell her. I don’t want her to know how much worse things are. I don’t want to burden her with the truth, your truth. Every day she waits by the phone for you, by the door. If she hears footsteps or a car slow outside, she runs to look… hoping it’s you.
The other day, I could tell it was all too much for her, that she needed me. Any good mother would’ve called in sick, but I let the fear of what he would do outweigheverything else. I left her in her room with a rushed goodbye. When I got home that night, Ray was furious. He screamed at me, shoved me into the wall and called her an embarrassment. Our sweet, strong Halle, all she wanted was a day of fun. She had gone to the arcade and walked through it with shoes that didn’t fit her, clothes that had holes in them. Someone must’ve called him to come get her. I don’t know what he said to her, but she barely leaves her room now.
My heart breaks for her. She misses you so much, and I fear that if you can’t get in contact with her soon, she’ll grow to resent you. Hate you. Blame you. I don’t want that for you. I don’t want that for her. This is my fault. Do you hear me, my boy? It’s all my fault…
The letter slips from my fingers and hits the floor. I fold forward, elbows digging into my knees as a silent sob tears through me. My shoulders tremble. My breath stutters. Madi’s hand finds my back instantly, moving in slow strokes, up and down, grounding me to the here and now. She presses her forehead lightly to my shoulder, her touch saying everything words can’t.
Images of ten-year-old Halle flash through my mind, lost in the noise of the arcade. Her sitting by the door, listening for footsteps that were never mine. A sharp ache twists in my gut.Fuck, this hurts.I should have been better. Ishould have been there.
“I failed her.” The words scrape out of me.
“No, you didn’t,” Madi says, her voice quiet, but fierce.
I turn. She’s already watching me, her eyes shining with strength, jaw set like she’s waiting for me to argue with her. She reaches down, lifting the letter gently off the floor, and folds it back into the envelope.
“Yes, I did,” I choke out. “If I had come back for her… she wouldn’t carry the anxiety she does now. She wouldn’t have been the one to find our mom on the shower floor. She wouldn’t have gone through all of that alone.”
“Don’t do that,” she says gently. “Don’t start playing the what-if game. We could sit here all night getting lost in that.”
She lifts a hand, ticking each one off with her fingers. “What if you went back? What if she went with you? What if you raised her? What if your mom never left? What if she had never met Ray? What if your dad never had that accident?”
My head whips toward her at the mention of my dad, but she doesn’t back down. My eyes fall shut on instinct, the empty hole in my heart aching at the memory of him.
“See? We could be here all night playing that game. We could build a whole imaginary world where everything is perfect. But Hunter, life isn’t perfect. It isn’t neat or clean or fair. We get handed impossible choices and impossible circumstances, and none of it comes with instructions.”
Her hand slips over mine, and I hold onto her, grounding myself in her touch.
“Every single person in this world has something they have to fight through. What matters is how we fight, and who we become on the other side. Some people break. Some people stop trying. Some let the hard parts swallow them whole. But you Dawsons have the strength that peoplewish for. You don’t go under. You don’t quit. And that strength? That’s why Halle fought like hell. It’s why she’s here, exactly where she’s supposed to be. Without what she survived, withoutyoufinding Sunlit Cove, she wouldn’t have this life. She wouldn’t be surrounded by people who love her, in a town that accepts her.” A soft smile curves her lips. “And she wouldn’t have a man who worships the ground she walks on.”
She pauses, her hand lifting to my face, her fingertip gently tracing my eyebrow.
“You didn’t fail her,” she whispers. “You didn’t fail anyone. You created this life, and the two of you get to live because of the strength you carry. You were dealt tough choices and hardships no young man should ever face, and look at what you did with them. A house everyone calls theirhome. A bar that’s all yours. A family that chose you.”
Her words settle in my chest, fighting the cold that’s lived there since the day my dad died. My jaw clenches, and I stare at her, at the sincerity in her eyes. For a moment, I can’t breathe. Not from the pain, but from the unfamiliar urge to accept what she’s saying. Maybe I don’t have to keep dragging this weight around. Maybe she’s right. Halle wouldn’t trade this life for anything in the world, not now, not with Asher by her side. Staring into Madison’s warm brown eyes, I know I wouldn’t either. She is it. My turning point. My reason. I would walk through hell again, face every fucked-up thing life threw at me, if it meant coming out on the other side with her. To call her mine.
Forever.
