Jax reached into the inside pocket of her jacket hanging on the chair. She pulled out a letter and unfolded it slowly. “Remember our first vacation together? We had no money but figured we could still have a good time in Wildwood. We weren’t wrong, but it wasn’t the best idea either.” Jax smiled at the memory. “I got so sunburned and you got sick from a gas station hot dog. We didn’t want to tell anyone how much of a disaster the trip was when we got home, but all of our friends were asking.” She traced the feminine loops of Gretchen’s handwriting and marveled at how it had never changed. Jax cleared her throat and began reading.

“Thank you for the weekend away. Our trip was far from perfect, but every mishap led me to one conclusion: you are perfect.” Jax paused and rubbed her sternum. She kept her hand over her heart. “You took care of me even when you could barely move and that meant a lot to someone who has always depended on themselves. No one has ever taken care of me that way. If I didn’t love you so damn much already, I’d certainly love you more now.”

Jax reached out and carefully covered Gretchen’s hand with hers. Even with their marriage coming to an end, she still felt the instinct to care for her. She placed the letter on her lap and rested her head back.

“It was easy caring for you,” she said, no longer needing the letter. “Back then, before the baby and all the grossness that came along with him, I’d usually run for the hills if someone was sick around me, but all I wanted was for you to feel better. Maybe I was just being selfish and wanted to get you back in your bikini as soon as possible.” She flashed Gretchen’s motionless body a smile. She took out another letter and began reading before checking the date.

“I love you,” Jax nearly stumbled over the blunt and lovely opening. “There’s no reason for this letter other than needing you to know and needing it to be in print. I love you, Jacqueline Shay Levine. Even the act of writing the words fills my stomach with butterflies and makes my heart beat so fast.” Jax clenched her jaw against a rush of anger and sorrow. She knew the butterflies would eventually die, but goddamn, why did their love have to die, too?

“This is stupid,” Jax said, throwing the letter on Gretchen. “You need to wake up, do you hear me? I can’t do this without you. Caleb needs you, and even though we’re getting divorced, I need you, too.” Jax realized the tight grip she had on Gretchen’s hand and pulled back.

“Amanda definitely needs you.” Jax drummed her fingers on the bedding, not really knowing what to do with her hands. “Your work seems to miss you a lot,” she said begrudgingly. “And I bet, even as you lie there, you can’t wait to get back to it.” A soft knock at the door jarred her.