Bad Boy (An Indecent Proposal) - J.C. Reed Page 0,70
I cannot trust anyone.
So I did something to protect you. I made a Last Will to overrule the previous one. You will find it in this letter.
I feel bad for Clint. I feel bad for not trusting him, but it’s the only way to ensure I’ll be able to take care of you after my death. Until the day you inherit everything, Clint will be your legal guardian. If not him, then who else? I have no sisters or brothers. My father is still alive, but I would rather give you to Clint than to him. At least I know Clint will take good care of you.
In my first will I’ll ask you to give up your inheritance, and for a very good reason. I want you to go to college and experience life like any other young woman out there. I want you to learn the value of friendship and happiness without the heavy burden that wealth brings with it. You shall receive everything when you’re old enough to make your own, wise decisions. While I know Clint loves me, I’m not naïve enough to trust that he’ll hold on to me forever. Someday he will move on, like your father did.
I cannot take the risk that he will become greedy.
My last Will and Testament that will be read upon my death will state that Clint gets everything, even though he and I have a verbal agreement that you’re to receive everything when you turn twenty-three regardless of who you’ve become. To make sure you find out about the existence of these letters, I’ve included a clause that requires you to be attached by the time you turn twenty-three years old. The reason is that I want you to be with someone who loves you for who you are rather than the money you’ll inherit.
Should Clint break his promise to me, my last Will is inside this letter. It’s co-signed by Nurse Marla and our gardener. It’s the only copy I have and they are the only witnesses, so make sure you don’t lose it. I also have included their contact details below.
Marla has always been good to me. She is also the closest I’ve ever come to having a real friend who hasn’t betrayed me. I’ve asked her to keep some things from me for you. Make sure to contact her. While she does not know about my past, she knows about my heartbreak that I’ve experienced at the hands of your father, and she understands what I have to do.
No one is perfect, Laurie. No one can be completely faultless. Not I, not my parents, not my uncle, nor Clint. It’s part of being human. Important is what you do with your faults, and what you can live with. In the end, it’s your life and your decision what you make of it. My decision was to make sure that I did the opposite of what I experienced in life. I don’t know why I’m writing this. Maybe because the hardest thing is yet to come.
I know you will hate me for this. I would, too, but I have to do it, Laurie. It’s not your fault, nor Clint’s. It’s also not my father’s fault. Nor my mother’s. It’s my own. I’ve considered this for a long time now. Today, my thoughts are lucid. Today that I can speak clearly, I know I have to do it. I don’t want to die at the clinic, labeled a mentally ill person. I want to do it on my own terms, as someone who’s aware of what she does.
Please forgive me.
I cannot stand to see myself slipping away. My mind…it’s not what it used to be. On some days, I don’t recognize myself. Those days become more and more frequent. I wander off with absolutely no idea of who I am, where I lived, what I do. On those days, I forget to eat, I forget that I exist. On some days, I wake up with wounds I inflict upon myself. This is not a way to live. I do not want to forget. I want to live, and be in control of myself, and if I cannot be that way, I would rather die as long as I know you exist.
Memory can be a precious thing, my daughter. I took it for granted, until I started to forget a little each day. The good memories were the first ones to go. I can feel it.