I know you asked me to let you go, but I couldn’t do that without knowing I did everything in my power to put together the pieces we had broken into. You’re everything to me and I do believe, deep down and regardless of everything, you still care for me, too. So here it is, my final plea in the form of a letter. You and I have done some of our most significant communicating like this, so putting my thoughts and feelings to paper only seemed fitting. There are truths I’ve learned recently about the custody clause and why I threw myself into my work that I think you need to know.

I would love to tell you more about it, maybe over coffee?

If we’re really over I think we both deserve the chance to say our final words. But I won’t lie, I hope we still have a chance. I love you too much. If you’re willing, I’ll be at Café Devon this Thursday at eight o’clock.

Love always,

Gretchen

Jax checked her watch. Thanks to her delay in getting the mail, she had ten minutes to make a decision. Times like this were when she envied Gretchen’s strength and hardheadedness. She wanted to tear up the letter and move on, really move on, and focus on giving Caleb a good childhood and figuring out how to start healing. But her heart…that part of Jax was as stubborn as Gretchen. After seeing Bethany and hearing Aurora’s name, she felt jolted and dizzy, and her first instinct was to talk to Gretchen, to cry with Gretchen. Was this a habit she’d have to learn to break, or was it a sign of how connected they’d always be? She felt silly for thinking in terms of signs, but if Gretchen had lived the past few weeks according to a premonition or nightmare or whatever she called it, maybe believing in signs wasn’t so foolish after all.

Chapter Forty

Gretchen spun her coffee cup three times clockwise and once counter. Remnants of foam still clung to the rim even after she drank half her cappuccino. She knew it was past eight o’clock, but she wasn’t surprised. Throwing the invitation out to Jax was risky and her chances of a good outcome were slim, but Gretchen didn’t care. She’d wait and wait until the café shut down if that’s what it took. She looked around the small space again, probably for the fifteenth or sixteenth time, and checked to see if anyone was watching her. She didn’t want a stranger’s pity, yet she was seeking it out. Her phone whistled. She turned off the sound before checking the message from Amanda.

Still a no show?

Gretchen sighed. Yes.

When are you coming home?