“I’m not screwing anything down here. I thought Tammy was the first.”
“Well thank goodness for small favors.” He laughs. “And limp dicks.”
When Tammy comes out of the bedroom, I apologize to her while Mason orders breakfast. After he walks her out, he sits down again. He eyes my new tattoo that I’m staring at.
“New ink, huh?”
I nod.
“Listen. I know you need time to get over this. But you should come back to New York. You have to face your responsibilities. I understand you’re feeling guilty about sleeping with Skylar, it tore her apart, too.”
My eyes snap to his. Then my heart settles in my stomach, making me feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut. She thought it was a mistake. “Shit, Dix, that’s not it at all.”
“You don’t feel guilty about sleeping with her?”
I shake my head. I’ve been over this a thousand times in my own mind. I don’t even understand it myself so how can I be expected to explain it to him?
“Whatever it is, you can tell me, G. We’ve been through a lot together, you and me. It’s okay, man. I won’t bail on you.”
How much worse can I make things if I tell him? I close my eyes so I don’t have to look at his reaction to my awful words. “I was relieved. All I felt was relief when Erin died.” I rub my fingers across my new tattoo. I don’t have to open my eyes to find it. I know exactly where it is on my arm.
“Of course you were relieved, Griffin. She was free of all the horrible things her body was putting her through those last months. It’s normal to feel that way.”
I shake my head. “It was more than that. Those first days after she died, when I locked myself in my bedroom. I wasn’t in there crying or grieving. I’d done all that before she died. I was hiding from her—from Skylar. From the way my body reacted to her when she was near me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to be around her without wanting her. I also knew how wrong it was. I knew what a douche of a husband it made me that two seconds after my sick wife died, all my body craved was getting into her best friend’s pants.
“Then after the funeral, I started drinking. And when Skylar found me in my studio, I couldn’t even help myself. I had to be with her. I didn’t even think of Erin. Not one time. Not until right after.” I pinch the bridge of my nose remembering that night. “It was awful, Dix.”
Mason nods as if understanding what I’m saying. “Bad sex, huh? Been there.”
“No. That’s not it at all. And that’s part of the problem. It was the best goddamn sex of my life. I had just buried my wife and I ran straight into Skylar’s arms and I loved every minute of it. Who does that? And worse, I’ve thought about it every day since. It’s been two months and I haven’t cried for my dead wife. Not since the night of her funeral.” I hit the couch cushion next to me. “I’m such a jackass.”
I blow a deep breath out. “I don’t feel guilty because I slept with her, man. But at the same time, I do. My wife fucking died and the first thing I do is forget about her to be with her best friend.”
He nods at my tattoo again. “But you haven’t forgotten about Erin. She’s right there on your arm. Just like your mom is. She’ll always be with you.” He laughs. “You’re beating yourself up over nothing. She wanted this. She wants this.”
He grabs his bag and sorts through some mail, pulling out an envelope and ripping off a sticky note that was attached to it. He walks over and shoves it in my face. “Here, you need to read this.”
I immediately recognize the handwriting as Erin’s. Oh my God. She did leave some final words for me. My throat becomes thick and my eyes sting.
Mason turns to leave. “Room service is taking too long. I’m going to head next door to that waffle place. You take some time to read that. And shower. You smell like a fucking pig, man.”
With that, he turns and exits the suite, leaving me staring at the envelope with my name on it.
I put it on the table in front of me. I can’t get myself to open it. Erin would be so disappointed in me if she could see me now. I decide to shower and shave before reading it. Maybe it’s strange, but I feel cleaning myself up will somehow make me more worthy of her last words.
When I emerge from the shower, the food has arrived. Doesn’t matter. I couldn’t eat now if it was my last meal. I sit down and tear open the envelope.
Griffin,
I’m not sure if this is the first letter you’ve been given, or one of the last. So if this is redundant, I apologize. Mason and Baylor have a series of letters written by me. They have been instructed to give them to you and/or Skylar in certain situations.
If you are reading this letter, you and Skylar have taken a step towards being together. You’ve made love. And I’m rejoicing whether I’m still alive or up in heaven. But if you are reading this letter, something’s gone wrong.
First, I need to apologize. Since the day you entered my life, you’ve been my caretaker. I’m sure it came from what happened to your mom, but I was all too willing to let you care for me over and beyond what any seventeen-year-old boy should have been responsible for.
You were my best friend. My lover. My husband. But I’m not naïve. No matter how much we both wanted it, we were never soul mates.
Despite that, I know you would have stayed with me forever. I know we would have loved each other the best we could. And I’ll always love you for that. Your loyalty is one of the most wonderful things about you.
I also know that if you’ve tried giving yourself to Skylar, you probably feel as if you’ve betrayed me. Well, listen closely, Griff. The only way you will betray me is by not following your heart. I’ve seen you and Skylar together. The way you look at her is how every woman should be seen. The way your face lights up when we talk about her and how your eyes follow her every movement—it’s how every woman should be revered.
I may have planted the seed, but you know as well as I do there is something between you two. Something wonderful. Something huge. Something I want more than anything for the two of you to accept and explore.
You were never my soul mate, Griff. But in some strange way, I think Skylar is. I think she’s both our soul mates. It’s as if the three of us together make the perfect couple. Fate brought her to us. Fate allowed her to carry your child. Fate had her fall in love with you.
You remember what I always said about fate, don’t you? DON’T MESS WITH IT!
Follow your heart, Griff. It will lead you in the right direction. Have faith. Let go of any guilt you may have over me. Go to her, go to your child. Be where love and life will surround you.
By taking care of them, you continue to take care of me. By loving them, you continue to love me.
So, please . . . love them.
Love them hard.
Love them forever.
Your best friend on earth and in heaven,
Erin
I put the letter back on the table and stare at it. How could she have possibly known I would screw this up?
I can’t help but think about the letter my mom wrote to me that I was given after her funeral. I was only fifteen at the time. She asked similar things of me. She asked me to let go of the guilt I felt over her getting sick. She asked me to let go of the hatred I had towards my father. She said he was grieving in the only way he knew how. She asked me to repair my relationship with my dad and to love him. She said my life would be better for it.
What is it about dying that makes everyone want to forgive, forget and make the world one big happy fucking kumbaya? Instead of being pissed off that they’re dying, they want to fix everyone else’s lives.
I read Erin’s letter once more. I try not to be upset that she waited two months to tell me this. Then again, it was me who ran away. If I’d stuck around, Mason could have given me the letter right away. I have nobody to be pissed at but myself. I could have avoided two months of self-loathing, self-pity, and God knows what else I could have gotten myself into.
My eyes focus on the
words that could burn a hole in the letter. The words that contributed to the guilt, the self-abhorrence, the drinking.
It’s as if the three of us together make the perfect couple.
The words she could have plucked from my own head because I’ve thought them so many times.
chapter twenty-two
When I first laid eyes on Skylar, I felt like the air was sucked out of the room. When her emerald-green eyes met with mine, I forgot to breathe. I had never experienced anything like it, not even when I met Erin. Not even when I’ve been around some of the world’s top supermodels.
She looked so nervous. I could tell she tried to put on a front and project this rough exterior. But when she started talking and that soft, melodious voice came out of her full, pouty lips, I thought I had never heard anything sweeter.
Then when she fell off the stool and into my arms, I swear to God I felt all that shit you see in sappy chick-flick movies. I couldn’t even begin to understand it. I was happy. I was happy with my beautiful wife and my dream job. I didn’t need or want another woman. I wasn’t ever looking for one. And no matter how strong my physical reaction to her was, I knew I would never act upon it. Erin was my wife. She was my life.
I realized I was being kind of a dick to Skylar at first, telling her my stare was innocent when I knew it was anything but. I even found myself getting jealous over the fact that she had a promiscuous past. It was ridiculous. I had no claim over this girl. But I knew I didn’t want to spend nine months or more having the reaction I was experiencing. I mean, I’m only human.
I was about to put a stop to the whole meeting when Erin started talking about fate. She wanted a baby. She wanted it so badly. We’d been trying to adopt for a few years, and only after she’d worked on me for several before that. I was never fully on board with having a kid. I was an only child and look at what happened to my fucked-up family. Shit goes wrong. People die. Fathers leave. I didn’t want to risk putting that burden on a child. But she wanted it so much. And who was I to deny Erin anything? From the day I met her, she garnered my complete loyalty. And I knew she would have it forever. No matter what.
So by the end of our meeting, I had decided to suck it up and be a man. I wasn’t going to be involved that much anyway. Pregnancy was a woman’s thing. I would simply keep my distance and then she’d be out of our lives after giving Erin the baby of her dreams.
I didn’t count on Erin and Skylar becoming best friends. I’d never seen Erin become attached to anyone like that before. At first I thought it was because of the baby. But the more I was around Skylar, the more I understood the draw. In many ways, she was the opposite of Erin. And not just physically. She exuded adventure, independence and friendship from her every pore. She was feisty and candid. She spoke her mind without hesitation. And dammit, when she cussed, all I wanted to do was shut her pouty lips up with mine. It was torture.
I did a good job of staying away those first few months. But then Erin started throwing us together. I thought she was crazy making me spend time with the gorgeous woman who was carrying my child. I tried to rationalize I was genetically predisposed to be attracted to her merely because she was pregnant with my baby. However, the more time we spent together, the more drawn to her I became. And all Erin wanted to do was talk about her. Tell me how great Skylar was. How cute her growing body was becoming. How loyal a friend she had become.
Then when Erin dropped the terminal-cancer bomb on us and told us her dying wish, I was sure, that in some twisted way, I’d caused her illness by the inappropriate thoughts I never would have acted upon.
What kind of wife gives their husband and best friend permission to hook up? Then again, our situation was never typical from the very beginning. I understood her request. I’d seen plenty of kids raised by single parents. She didn’t want that for Aaron. So I promised her. And then I failed her.
For the first time in my life, I failed Erin by running away.
The door to the suite opens, startling me. Mason walks through and I shake my head. “They gave you a goddamn key? Is there anything you can’t weasel your way into?”
He laughs. “Can I help it that women throw themselves at me?” He shows me a second key card. “She gave me two, actually. She said her break was at noon if I wanted to meet her there.”
My jaw drops.
“What? Like you’ve never been handed hotel keys before.” He rolls his eyes at me and then tosses the second key in the trash. “Guys like you and me; we’ve been both blessed and cursed. These looks come at a price.”
He doesn’t have to explain. I know all too well what price he’s talking about. It comes to visit him every other weekend and on Wednesdays. Even less during football season. I decide to change the subject. “So, no playoffs this year?”
“Well, what do you expect when I’m not out there throwing the ball?” It’s a joke, but he’s frowning. We both know he should’ve been the starting quarterback for the Giants this year. It’s why he was drafted his junior year at Clemson. It wasn’t his fault that Johnny Henley retracted his retirement at the last minute. But instead of throwing a fit or asking to be released, Mason accepted his position as backup quarterback, claiming he would earn his way to the starting position.
“It’ll happen, Dix. One of these days, it’ll happen.”
He nods at me. “Makes for a very boring January. But hey, maybe I’ll hang down here with you for a few days. Work on my tan.”
“You can hang out here if you want. The suite is paid for until the end of the month.” I get up and walk over to the table, suddenly hungry. “I’m heading home as soon as I can get a flight.”
Mason gives me an award-winning smile. I know he’s about to gloat. I hold up my hand to stop him. “It was the letter, not you, you dickwad.”
He smirks at me. “The letter, huh? Has nothing to do with the ‘best sex of your life’?”
I throw a dry waffle at him.
“You really didn’t screw around this whole time you’ve been down here?” he asks.
I shake my head and then take a bite of lukewarm eggs. “I tried. But every time I’d start getting somewhere with them I felt like I was cheating on her.” I lock eyes with him. “Cheating on Sky. How messed up is that?”
“Sky?” He raises an eyebrow. “I thought she hated that nickname.”
I laugh. “She does. It’s probably one of the reasons I use it.”
“You two get off on rubbing each other the wrong way, don’t you?” He smiles. “Sounds like true love to me,” he jokes.
Love. I’m reminded of Erin’s comment about Skylar being in love with me. I’m sure it was just another manipulation tactic on her part. Half the time I think Sky hates me. And I probably sealed the deal when I walked out on her, telling her it was a mistake. I wonder just how much work I’ve got cut out for me to make up for it. “Exactly how pissed off is she at me?”
“Pissed?” he says. “I wouldn’t say she’s pissed. She’s trying to deal with things the best she can. You were both dealt a devastating blow, but now she’s been left with a kid she never thought would be hers to keep.” He lets out a long breath. “But, listen, it’s best you get back there soon. Grab your stuff and I’ll head to the airport with you.”
“What happened to getting a tan?” I ask.
He laughs. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss a second of what you’re about to walk back into.”
I draw my brows in confusion. “I thought you said she wasn’t pissed.”
“Well, she might not be. But I didn’t say there wouldn’t be a shitstorm coming from everyone else you know.”
I run my hands through my hair before heading into the bedroom for my suitcase.
~ ~ ~
Mason can fall asleep anywhere. Once, he fell asleep on the subway during rush hour. He just slumped over and started snoring. Me—I’ve got too much shit flowing through my head. What’s it going to be like being in the city without Erin? Who am I if I’m not the man taking
care of her? Where will I stay? Am I even welcome back at my townhouse?
But most of all, as I stare out the window at the pillowy clouds below, I think of Sky.
I remember what seem like the most inconsequential moments. Moments like when I held her hair back as she puked into her waste basket. Or when she reached her arms around me to tie an apron. And when I put my arm around her at the baseball stadium to keep that creep away. Every one of those touches was innocent, yet with each one, I felt some sort of electrical current making its way through my body. Each touch hit me in the pit of my stomach and had me questioning my sanity if I were to keep being around her.
Then, of course, there were the touches that almost wrecked me. When she put my hand on her stomach and I felt Aaron move for the first time. It was only minutes before Erin’s death. Minutes that separated one of the best moments in my life from one of the worst.
And when we slept together—it was all I could do not to pour my feelings out like a pansy ass. Being with her was surreal. I know I was a little drunk, but that did nothing to dull the feel of her touch. It did nothing to lower the incredible sensation of her milky-white skin against mine. It did nothing to stifle the memory of every nuance in her face, every curve of her body and every taste of her skin.
I reach in my pocket and wrap my hand around the small rectangular box wrapped in holiday paper. I’m still not sure I’ll give it to her. I’m not even sure it was ever my intention to give it to her, but it seemed too perfect not to buy.
I reach into my carry-on and pull out the ultrasound picture I swiped from Erin’s room the morning I left. It’s the picture of him sucking his thumb. I can see the wrinkles on his little face and the creases on his tiny fingers. I touch the picture, tracing his face with my thumb. I’m glad he hasn’t been born yet. I’d hate for him to be old enough to understand what I’d done. I know what it’s like to hate your own father.
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