He frowned at me. “You had a major heart attack yester—”
“When can I go home?”
I hated this place, I hated that my father was dying in the room next door. I hated that the universe thought that I deserved this after everything I’d been through.
The doctor sighed, tapping his iPad. “Ashton, your body is rejecting the donor heart. If these new rejection meds don’t work, if you smoke again, if you drink—”
“Then I’ll die,” I told him flatly. Maybe that’s what I’d been trying to do all along. Just to return to Jenna, or go into the big black abyss or whatever awaited us when we died. I wasn’t even sure that Jenna and I would wind up in the same place. If heaven and hell were real, then she’d be upstairs and I’d be down.
When I didn’t say anything else, the doctor tapped the iPad once more. “Okay, I’ll have the nurse work on your discharge paperwork, but I want you to meet with your cardiologist every week for a work-up.”
I saluted him and he left, then I sent a family text to Gran, cousin Richie, and my aunt Maggie that I was getting discharged.
Cousin Richie said he’d pick me up, he had my truck anyway.
Perfect. I’d have my bar back, my apartment back, and I’d sell it to Darcy so I could move on from this whole mess. How stupid that I’d let a pretty woman roll into my life like a bulldozer and change all my plans.
Never again.
By the time my cousin arrived, I was feeling pretty damn good about life. But when he walked in with a frown on his face, I didn’t even want to ask.
“What’s wrong?” I growled. “Did she steal from me or something?”
Wouldn’t put it past the little con artist.
He looked offended. “No.”
“Then why do you look like you’re about to give me bad news?” I was still waiting on my damn discharge papers. My cousin walked around to the side of the bed I was leaning against and that’s when I saw the paper in his hands. The swirly feminine writing cut right into my chest and I was reminded of the chalkboard signs Millie did for the bar … a bar that wasn’t even hers.
I held up my hands. “Nope, don’t want it.”
An apology letter from the psycho? No way. “Trash.” I pointed to the bin in the corner.
My cousin shook his head. “It’s not for you. It’s for… him.”
Him?
I was mystified until my cousin blew out a shaky breath. “Colin. We rushed her out like you told us to and I think she forget she left it on the bar top.”
My mouth went dry. She wrote a letter to her dead ex? Now I just felt sorry for her.
He laid it on the bed. “I’m gonna grab a coffee, been a long day.” Then he slipped out the door, leaving me with the offending letter.
I was not reading that. NO way. I didn’t want to know what twisted stuff she wrote to her ex. But the paper was thin … see through, and when I saw my name, I snatched it up and started reading.
Dear Colin,
This will be my last letter to you.
I paused for a moment, wondering how many more there were.
I messed everything up. I came to Nashville to say goodbye to you and heal my heart. Instead, I’ll end up leaving in worse shape than when I got here. I’ll never forget you, Colin. Just because the letters stop doesn’t mean my memories of you will ever diminish. I still smile when I think of that day in Berkey Park.
I wondered what memory she had with him in Berkey Park but shook it off. Who cares?
Colin, loving you was so easy. The kind of ease that comes with first love. Loving Ashton was like pulling teeth! But somehow, it went a bit deeper. He’s got more scars, more depth, more to lose, and that made me love him in a way I couldn’t ever love you.
My hands shook and I had to take a moment to steady my breathing. She … loved me? She saw all of my dark ugliness, with my father, with myself and she still …loved me? I mean, she’d said as much when she’d left my hospital room, but I thought it was a lame attempt to keep me in her life. To keep Colin. I thought she was mentally unhinged … but this letter was not mental. It was a very sad and very real private moment between a grieving wife and her lost love. My throat tightened as I read on.
