The Ahern Brothers Collection - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,104
… but you chose to ignore her.”
“What do I say? I fucked up her life.”
“You’re a broken record. A drunk broken record who needs to fuck off from my office. I tried everything, but I’m done with you.”
I look up finally, staring at him in disbelief. “What?” His words don’t register.
“I’m done looking after you. If you want to continue screwing up your life, do it somewhere else,” he says.
Two burly men dressed in black suits enter my office.
“Gentlemen, take him away,” Sterling orders them.
“You can’t do this,” I say. This has to be a dream.
“Watch me, asshole,” he says sternly.
May 2nd
Happy Birthday!
It’s been so long since your last letter, weeks. It left me worried and drained. I hope you’re doing a lot better and that your days are filled with spring sunshine. Sorry for not sending you anything before today. I’ve written a lot, but I don’t think I’ll ever send them to you. Know that I’m thinking of you every day, and I wish we could spend this day together. Soon, maybe?
Yours,
Wes
May 5th
Wes,
Thank you for all the presents. You spoil me, and I’m grateful for your thoughtfulness. I also hope that we can be together soon. Therapy has been harder these past few days. Every thought lingers around the circumstances of my childhood. It’s about myself, my mother, the abuse I suffered at the hands of so many. It’s hard to relive the memories in order to get over them.
I feel raw and vulnerable. Writing about it isn’t easy, but maybe someday I’ll be able to share it with you.
Love,
Abby
July 8th
Wes,
It’s been more than a year since the last time I saw you. I’ll leave the center in about a month. Can you believe it? I’m about to start a new life. I don’t know what I want to do or where I want to live. Our paths continue to diverge, and I’m afraid that we’ll never see each other again. That the connection we once shared is gone—forever. My heart can pinpoint the moment our bond ruptured. It was when I told you what really happened to me when I was younger. We tried to hold on to the few remaining threads, but maybe there’s nothing left.
You’ll always be special to me, and I hope that if we see one another again, we can catch up and be happy for each other.
Love,
Abby
August 9th
Abby,
I hope this reaches you before you leave or that they forward it to your new address. You worded perfectly what I haven’t been able to express over these past few months. Without meaning to, we lost our link. It fucking hurts so much. One day though, I’m going to find you because I know in my heart that we’re destined to be part of each other’s lives. Not sure as to what or how.
I'm in love with our memories, with the possibility of falling back in love with you.
If nothing, I’m a man of my word, and I promise this isn’t the last goodbye. Just a long pause.
Yours,
Wes
Eight
Abby
One year later
I never believed in love at first sight, but I’m head over heels in love, and it hasn’t been more than five minutes since we met.
“What do you think?” Sterling smiles.
Sterling and I got closer after I moved into Esperanza’s Home. We wrote to each other often and he visited me a couple of times at the Center. He’s been keeping tabs on me since I left. Out of the family, he’s the only one who still talks to me.
“You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”
I roll my eyes and ignore his cocky smirk.
“Who wouldn’t? He’s adorable!” I pick up the pup and stare at him. “Best present ever.”
“It’s my you’ve been out of the hole for a year present,” Sterling says.
“Thank you for the present, but I wouldn’t call the rehab center a hole. It was a very nice place where I made friends and learned how to cope.” I place the dog on my lap and scratch him behind the ears.
I hid myself away for an entire year, safely cocooned from the real world while I healed my wounds.
“There’s still a lot I have to work through, but you could say I’m better.”
“That’s where this little guy comes in,” he says. “I read that Labradors and Golden Retrievers are great therapy dogs.”
Sterling is right, and though I played with the idea of getting a dog six months ago, I soon realized that a dog in a tiny studio in Brooklyn wouldn’t be comfortable. Even