comes around once.”
I kill her husband and she tries to salvage my relationship. It makes me sick.
I sigh. It’s painful, and reminds me that I have to keep breathing. “I’ll always love Windsor. She’s the only one for me, but I can’t be with her. We have each other. We’ll get through this, Morg. We’ll get through it.” Because I have to be strong for you, I think. Stone would want that.
Morganna sniffles. “Don’t make this more tragic than it has to be.” Her wise words rattle around in my mind, but eventually peter out. I refuse to take things I don’t deserve. I won’t destroy another life. “We do have each other. But don’t think I’ll sleep with you.” She smiles against me. I kiss the top of her head. My heart aches more than I thought possible.
Several silent, morbid seconds pass. We’re both thinking of him.
“Come with me tomorrow. I need you,” she admits. “No one knows what this feels like except you. You’re the only one who understands. I miss him, God. I miss him.”
I miss you too, Bro. If there was ever a time I believed in a God or a place after death, it’s now. Because someone like Stone doesn’t just stop. It’s impossible.
“I need you too, Morg. I’ll be with you all day tomorrow. I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” I tell her, hugging her close. Stone’s sweatshirt still smells like him. He’s here in bed with us. Smiling, I shake my head at the fucked up thought.
“I invited her. She’ll be there,” Morganna says. I’m still amazed how quickly Phillipe organized the funeral. Morg didn’t have any part of it. She couldn’t. Phillipe knew without asking exactly what needed to happen. I told Morg she needed to pay him more. She agreed.
I clear my throat. “Everyone will be there,” I counter. Avoidance.
She changes the subject. “Read me the letter, Maverick. Read it to me,” Morganna whispers.
We’ve put it off long enough. I know if I hesitate another second, I won’t do it. Sliding my fingers under the flap, I open the envelope and pull out the two letters. I glance at Morganna, shake my head sadly, and open the perfect fold. Using more bravery than I’ve ever possessed, I read.
Morganna, Morg, my fuzzy kitten wrapped in canon ball metal:
Do you remember the time we went to Belgium? We spent a night drinking honey beer and talking to an old guy that kept showing us phone pictures of his half-naked, overweight girlfriend? I spoke French all night and you smoked stogies like a fucking Mafia lord. God, you are so fuckin’ hot. What about the time I tried to teach you to surf on a long board? The sight of you riding that huge wave makes me smile. Remember what you did to me on our wedding night? You freak.
The smile you have on your face right now (I know you’re smiling after that last question) is the reason I fell in love with you. If you’re reading this letter you’re gonna have to use that same perfect, fucking smile to trap another badass mofo’. I know you will and you need to know that I want you to move on.
Because you saved me, Morg and if you never saved another bad seed it would be worse than my lost life. And because you saved me, I could save Maverick. You know what that means to me.
I want you to understand you are the reason I live and breathe. My world gravitates around you. That hot fucking sun rises and sets because you live on this planet. It’s your face I see every time I close my eyes. It’s like you’re tattooed on the back of my eyelids. (Fuck, why didn’t I think of that sooner?) Don’t think anything different happened when I closed my eyes for the final time. I saw your face. In fact, when I get to the pearly gates, I expect to see your beautiful head residing on God’s body. That’s the only sight I want to see for eternity. If I don’t get it, I want my fucking money back. I love you, Morganna Sterns. I love every single piece of your perfect body and twisty-fuck mind. I love all of you.
Take care of Maverick. Take care of each other. You are the great love of my life. I’m sorry my life took away your love. It was the only thing capable of taking it—that’s something, right?
I’m sorry for a