A Letter to Delilah - Jaxson Kidman Page 0,100

me - fly, baby, fly - wanting to keep me safe.

One thing I knew for sure was that this baby was not going to be born into a twisted world. This baby was not going to come home from the hospital to an apartment full of cat pictures. Or have to endure Grace’s speeches on life. This baby would not live through what I lived through. I would find a way to be everything this baby needed and then some. And if Josh was telling the truth that he wouldn’t do what his father did, then this baby would have the love from two people who knew what not being loved felt like.

Except I loved Josh.

I still loved him.

I couldn’t imagine not loving him.

It was impossible to not think about the way he had touched me. Kissed me. Taken me to his bed. The way our bodies felt together. Not just physically either.

And the entire time…

A soft knock on my door broke up the painful thought.

I wiped the corners of my eyes and turned my head as Grace opened the door.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Please…”

“Not sure what you want me to do. But Josh is here.”

“What?”

“He’s at the door looking for you.”

I swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“Want me to tell him you’re sleeping or something?”

“No,” I said. I climbed out of the bed. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Are you sure? Your body can only take so much, Amelia. And now you need to think about the baby. All the time.”

“Grace,” I said. “Please.”

She opened the door all the way and disappeared.

I shuffled through the apartment in oversized black pajama bottoms and an oversized gray hoodie. I was the definition of a walking mess and I didn't give a damn about it.

Josh stood at the front door, hands in the pockets of an old and dirty black leather jacket. I hated that no matter what he did, said, or wore, he was gorgeous. Even hurting me, he made it so I wanted more. Which was wrong. I was mad at myself for that.

“What do you want?” I asked him.

“To do what you said to do, love,” he said in a soft voice.

“And now you came back here to do what? Rub it in my face? I told you I'm sorry I asked anything. I should have known better. You’ll never understand-”

Josh stepped toward me and gently touched my cheek. His thumb grazed my bottom lip. My eyes filled with tears.

With his left hand, he pulled something out of his pocket. He stepped back and took my hand and placed a piece of paper into it.

“There,” he said. “It’s done.”

“What’s done?” I asked.

Josh looked into my eyes maybe deeper than he’d ever done before. “I just gave the letter to Delilah.”

Chapter 44

All At Once

THEN

(Amelia)

“I have one card left,” Mom said. “Do I have to call out something.”

“Well, I think you can call out Crazy Eights,” I said. “I don’t care.”

Mom smiled.

I put down a red four of hearts.

“Shit,” she said.

She had to pick up from the pile and the game continued. It felt like the longest card game of my life, but in a way, I didn’t want it to end.

The kitchen table smelled horrible. The dishes overflowed in the sink. The fridge was half empty other than beer and days old milk. My stomach rumbled with hunger, but I wasn’t going to bring that up.

This was actually a calm moment in life.

Just Mom and I hanging out and playing cards.

“Have you been writing lately?” she asked.

“Not as much as I should be.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t know.”

“Writer’s block?”

“I guess you could call it that,” I said. “Do you really think I could become a famous writer?”

“Why not?” Mom asked. “There's no set path in anyone’s life, Amelia. Doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor or anything like that. I think you're a great writer.”

“Thanks,” I said.

Mom finally put down a hearts card.

The game continued.

“I’m hungry,” she said. “How about a famous grilled cheese?”

“We have cheese?” I asked.

“I’m sure we do.” She put her cards down. “Don’t look at my cards.”

“Oh, I’m looking. I’m not losing this game.”

Mom opened the fridge and started to dig.

I looked forward and I jumped back in my chair. It scratched against the floor.

My father stood in the living room.

The dark living room.

His figure was a silhouette and his eyes were almost glowing like an animal about to attack.

I didn’t even hear him come home.

“You were right, Amelia,” Mom said. “We have no cheese. Shoot.” She shut the door. “Tell

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