Jax stared at the ceiling. Her alarm had gone off fifteen minutes prior, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. She ached with fatigue. Weeks spent going back and forth from the hospital, caring for Caleb, and trying to keep her head above water at the office were finally starting to take their toll. Instead of rising to the early morning light, she decided to watch Meredith sleep soundly instead. She reached out to touch the ends of Meredith’s hair, the silky feel soothing her. Meredith had been so kind and patient, never expecting more from her than she was able to give. She touched Meredith’s shoulder next, feeling the familiar soft cotton of an old shirt. Jax loved when Meredith chose to sleep in one of her T-shirts. Something about it struck her as more intimate than nudity.

“I saw the letters.” Meredith hadn’t opened her eyes, but she’d obviously been awake for a while.

“I’m sorry,” Jax said dumbly, not entirely sure what she was apologizing for.

Meredith smiled slowly, her lips spreading into a sweet grin. She opened her blue eyes. “You don’t owe me an apology, silly.” She touched Jax’s cheek.

“The doctor recommended talking to Gretchen while she was in her coma. I thought it was stupid and couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. There was no way I was going to talk about the ham and cheese sandwich I had for lunch.” She gripped Meredith’s hip and ran her fingertips along the strip of bare skin between her shirt and shorts. The softness eased her racing mind. “I came across the letters and figured reading to her would be just as effective,” she said, feeling embarrassed.

“I didn’t read them…well, not all of them. I saw them and took a peek out of curiosity. Gretchen loved you very much.”

She felt the sting of Meredith’s choice of past tense, but she didn’t let it show. Jax nodded and leaned harder into Meredith’s warm palm. “She did.”

“I remember when you two interviewed me to be Caleb’s nanny. I was so jealous of what you had.”

Jax could barely remember that day. “We were different people then.” She kept her responses short, never feeling completely comfortable with sharing details of her marriage with Meredith. She was too involved already.

“I wish I could see the letters you wrote to her.” Meredith shifted closer, pressing her breasts into Jax’s front. “You’re a wonderful artist. I’m sure you’re just as talented with words as you are with pen and pencil.”

Art. Drawing, painting, and sculpting were all the things Jax loved before her life started to fall apart.

“She probably threw those letters away,” she said, leaning her head back as Meredith started kissing her neck.

“She’s crazy if she did. If you wrote me a love letter, I’d keep it forever.”