Jax lined her shoes up along the floor, and as she reached up to turn off the light, a box on the top shelf caught her attention. Deciding to mind her business, she closed the closet door and collected her toiletries for the guest bathroom. She lined up her shampoo, conditioner, and face cleanser. Her moisturizer and hair products went in the empty medicine cabinet, and she placed her toothbrush and toothpaste on the vanity. Making sure every little tube and bottle was in place only served as a distraction for so long, and in no time, she had convinced herself to march back to the closet and grab the box. She put it on the bed and flipped off the top. The contents were unmistakable.

She ran her fingertips along the many letters she’d believed were gone. Why would Gretchen ever keep them if she didn’t still love her? She laughed at herself. You didn’t have to love someone to keep mementos, especially when you’d been with her for over fifteen years.

Jax poked her head out of the bedroom. “You okay down there, Cricket?”

“Goofy’s funny.”

She would’ve preferred a yes or no, but she’d take what she got. She reached into the box and pulled out a random letter, unfolding it and placing it on the bed. She paced at the foot of the bed four times before she even looked at the date. The significance of the year made Jax’s stomach drop. The same wave of nausea hit her just like it always did. She started to read.

My Love,

We’re both hurting so much right now, I know it’s hard to talk about it. But I never want you to forget I’m here and I love you. We’re in this together, forever, and that means dragging each other through the hardest days. I’ll drag you and you drag me, and one day we’ll smile again. And I cannot wait to see that beautiful smile of yours.

Unconditionally forever,

Jax

Jax’s hands shook as she folded the letter back up. She replaced the lid on the box and put it back in the closet. She wanted to weld the door shut to ensure that monster stayed inside. She already remembered so much of that day when she closed her eyes: the way Gretchen cried in her arms, the way not one doctor or nurse would look them in the eyes, the way they held their stillborn. For the first time since the accident, Jax was genuinely jealous of Gretchen for losing her memories.

“Maybe I should fall down some stairs.”

“Mama’s home!” Caleb’s voice carried up the stairs and scared her.