Hollow (Heaven Hill Generations #4) - Laramie Briscoe Page 0,22

something tangible will definitely let him feel the depth of your sorrow and just how sorry you are. Kids don’t expect us to be perfect, but they do expect us to be able to own up to our mistakes.”

What she says makes a lot of sense, but there’s also still the chance he could reject me, and rejection right now? It would set me back. Then again, I have to remember I’ve basically rejected him for months and just expected him to live with the decisions I’ve made without explanation. He deserves to know how much I love him, how happy he makes me, and how much he filled a hole in my heart.

I play with a piece of thread on my jeans, picking at it until it unravels. I wish I had scissors to cut it off, but they aren’t allowed in here. At least not where I am. “I have so many mistakes to own up to.”

“One at a time,” she reminds me. “Just like you’re going to take this one day at a time. No reason to overwhelm yourself and get set up for failure. The people who love you and want you in their lives will be okay with it. Those who don’t, maybe aren’t as important as you thought they were.”

Her words tumble around in my head like clothes in a dryer. I don’t want any more loss in my life, and I’m unsure if I’ll be okay with losing anyone else. The timer signaling the end of our session goes off.

“Write the letter, and see how you feel about it. You don’t have to mail it.” She offers me an out, knowing sometimes I need one.

Decisions are important to me, not because I love to make them, but because I’ve figured out since I’ve been in here, I hate to be told what to do. This has to be something I want to do.

“Thanks, I’ll think about it.”

As I leave this session, I know I do have to mail it, I know I owe it to Walker to show him I’m thinking about him, and just how sorry I am that all of this happened.

The paper is spread out before me, my favorite pen in my hand. I’ve spent almost an hour staring at the blank pages. I’m not sure how to start this. Unlike Dalton’s, which practically spilled from me, I’m worried about Walker’s. Unsure if he’ll ever see me as a mom again, not even sure whether he likes me as a person anymore.

Knowing the things I made him see sickens me.

It makes me wonder about my real father. Did he care when he left Mom? Knowing she was pregnant, he still left her. Did he have emotional issues like I do? Maybe he just couldn’t deal with everything that happened in such a short amount of time.

The pen in my hand goes around and around in a circle as I twirl it, my mind spinning with the same intensity. Try as I might, I can’t believe that someone would leave the woman who was going to have his child and be okay with it. With any of it. Leaving the woman, leaving his own children. He never stuck around long enough to be a part of our lives, or even know that there were two of us.

I’m thankful for this opportunity to figure out what part of myself I’m missing. I want to come back better, be the best person I can be, and prove to my family they are the most important thing in the world to me.

But before I can do that, I need to write this letter. I need to pour my heart out and make sure my son feels how much I love him, make sure he knows the person who’s been inside my brain the last few months isn’t really me.

It’s going to be a hard sell. My son, he isn’t stupid, he shows that every single day of his life. He knows when someone is trying to get something over on him, and he will see right through me if I try to make excuses.

So with that thought in my head, I grip my pen harder, lean over, and start the letter that I hope will signal a return to the life I once knew.

Walker,

I love you…

Chapter Eleven

Walker

“You got some mail today.”

I never get mail. Only if it’s my birthday or Christmas, so I’m super excited to know who I got it from. “Yeah? Where