The Last Letter

by Rebecca Yarros

I hated the F word. People bitched about theirs all the time, constantly, really. But the minute they realized you didn’t have one, it was like you were an aberration who had to be fixed, a problem that needed to be solved, or worse—pitied.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, knowing he couldn’t hear me. “Thank you for her.”

What’s it like to be the center of someone’s universe? V/R, Chaos

And now you have a piece of my home with you.

So I’m good with gravity. After all, it controls the tides, the motion of everything, and even makes life possible. And then when they’re ready to fly, maybe they’ll find someone else who keeps their feet on the ground. Or maybe they’ll fly with them. I hope it’s a little bit of both.

“Sometimes you have to leave so you can know what it is you left. You don’t really value something until you’ve lost it.”

“We’re not leaving here until you give me a diagnosis. Do you understand me? You will not wash your hands of her, or me. You will not treat her as a mystery you simply couldn’t solve. I didn’t go to medical school, but I can tell you that she’s sick. Her blood work says it. Her hip says it. You did go to medical school, so figure. It. Out.”

“We attack it immediately and without mercy. We start with chemo, and we move forward. We fight. She fights. And when she’s too tired to fight, then you do what you can to fight for her, because this is an all-out war.”

I’ll save you a seat on the other side, brother, but take your time. Take every single second you can. You are the only brother I would have wished for, and my very best friend. And just in case no one ever told you—you’re worthy. Of love. Of family. Of home.

My call sign is Chaos. I miss you and your letters so damn much. I crave your words more than oxygen. I’m so sorry about Ryan. I don’t deserve to be here. He does.

I’d fallen in love with her. Fallen for her words, her strength, her insight and kindness, her grace under impossible circumstances, her love for her children, and her determination to stand on her own.

I made a mental note to get a gym membership. I liked that look.

But I was only Ella’s—even if she didn’t know it.

“She looks like such a docile little thing. You’d never guess she’d be capable of ripping someone apart.” “She’s like any other woman in that regard, ma’am.”

She was so little to have a surgery like this tomorrow. To have cancer. What kind of God did this to little kids?

“Like someone picks up your life and shakes it like a snow globe,” Ella offered. “It seems to take forever for the pieces to settle, and then they’re never in the same place.”

“Don’t let go,” she whispered. Her hands were still between us, but she wasn’t pushing me away, they were simply resting on my pecs. If anything, she leaned in. “I’d forgotten what this felt like.” “Being hugged?” My voice was sandpaper-rough. “Being held together.”

“Play my position, show no fear, and tonight we dine on the souls of our enemies!”

As you get bigger, you’ll see that it’s not how you handle the wins that make you a good man, it’s how you handle the losses.”

“That of course they have a father, because babies have to have a father and a mother. But they don’t have a dad. Because while all men can be fathers, not all of them are qualified to be daddies, and theirs just wasn’t.”

“You take my truck.”

Wait. What? Trucks were sacred to guys. He might as well be offering his soul on a platter. “Your truck.”

“I’ve heard it said that the greatest adventure is what lies ahead. Well, I read it, but we’re going to use it.”

“You’re stunning. You don’t need makeup. There has never been a moment since I met you that I saw you as anything less than an incredible, exquisitely beautiful woman. But I understand that you don’t feel the way I see you. So yes, I’m sure.”

“Ah, another woman you’ve ruined for any other man,”

Or slice my heart open and bleed out, whatever you’d like.

I’ve missed you every second, so much it hurts to breathe.

We are imperfect people made that way by an imperfect world, and we don’t always get a say in what shapes us.

“I got to have you. Just like a dad.”

Life was short. Colt taught me that. Life was worth fighting for. Maisie taught me that. Letters could change your life. Ryan taught me that.

Love—when it was right—was enough to save you. Beckett taught me that every single day.