Between the Lives - By Jessica Shirvington Page 0,93

made me lose it. Him too.

Levi and I bawled like babies.

That night, I read Ethan’s letter.

My Sabine,

I just left your room. You were so beautiful lying there sound asleep that I couldn’t bear to wake you. But I’m not feeling so great and there are things I promised to tell you that I fear I may not get the chance to.

I know you had once hoped that I would be the one to pass on your letters to Maddie once you were gone. But, as it turns out, I think it is going to be me who ends up leaving the letters behind.

Be mad at me. You should. But after that try to understand that I did what I thought was best. I wanted to tell you. So many times I snuck down to your room planning on telling you everything, but I just couldn’t.

Partly it was for you – yes. You needed time and I didn’t want to influence your choices, even once I realised what was happening between us, even more so then. Falling in love with you only made those choices more complicated and I feared that you might choose to stay for me and then, after I was gone, change your mind. I couldn’t let that happen.

Partly the choice was selfish, and for that I am sorry. For so long now people have been trying to fix me, but where they failed, you succeeded. You’ve given me more life in the last couple of weeks than I’ve had in years. Being with you, loving you, making memories with you, fearing for you, wanting to show you the beauty of life instead of the terror – it was bitter-sweet, but more importantly, Sabine, it was real.

I know this is the part when I beg you to go on, live your life and be happy. But I don’t need to say those things. I know you. Your lives will be extraordinary. You certainly made mine feel that way.

Please find it in your heart to forgive me one day. I wish we’d had more time, but I want to thank you – for giving me life in my time of death.

My love for you is eternal.

Ethan.

P.S. I’ve left you my car, because I know you love the freedom – and my apartment, because you need something to come back to. We joked once that I was a figment of your imagination – you’ll see my whole life in that apartment, if you want to, so you can always be sure I was there. I hope it might be a place you can call home – a place where you can be yourself.

E.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Two and a half weeks after Dex’s attack in Wellesley, I was starting to look more like myself again. Most of the bruising on my face had faded and, apart from still having to move about slowly with my ribs, I was functioning. Physically anyway.

Miriam and Lucy had visited me often while I was in hospital. They tried to ask me about what happened a few times, but I just told them I needed to move on. They seemed to accept that, but I also saw the change. The way they looked at me differently. And when I told Miriam I wouldn’t be able to go away with her to the Hamptons, the small sigh of relief. I understood. What had happened had changed things for all of us, and it would take them time to accept that our bubble of perfectness had burst.

On my second Saturday home from the hospital, Ryan called to let Mom and me know that he was on his way. Mostly he was checking if it was still all right for him to bring his friend. I knew he was asking for my benefit, so I told him it was no problem. When I got off the phone, Mom was staring at me.

‘What?’ I asked.

She looked me up and down. ‘I just, I’ve never seen you in … jeans.’

I looked down at my outfit of fitted dark-blue jeans and a white singlet top. It was definitely not what she was used to. I shrugged. ‘I’m just trying out something new.’ The truth was, I was just trying, period.

‘You look completely different,’ Mom went on.

‘I’m still me. Just me, Mom.’

With that she hugged me and headed off to play squash with Lyndal.

I hung out in my room, looking at my college material, trying to decide what I wanted to do – if Harvard