The Last Letter

by Rebecca Yarros

He wasn’t getting the letter or a cookie. I wasn’t sharing any part of Ella. She was the first person who had ever been only mine, even if it was just through letters. That wasn’t a feeling I wanted to part with.

My knees gave out as my back hit the wall. I slid, paper crumpling behind me as my weight took down whatever had been there. I landed on the floor, unable to do anything but breathe. Voices spoke, and I heard but didn’t understand what they said.

As if my soul had caught fire, I felt a burning in my chest, a driving purpose that eclipsed all else. My daughter would not die.

I wanted to grab her, to hold her against my chest and block anything that wanted to harm her. My hands ached to sweep down the line of her back, to take away any of her suffering that she’d let me.

It might be temporary, but I was here for as long as Ella would let me stay. Because somewhere between letter number one and letter number twenty-four, 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 could list a thousand reasons that woman owned whatever heart I had.

She made me want to tell her everything, and that was dangerous to both of us.

But sometimes you don’t need someone to talk back to you. Sometimes we just need a friend to listen, and she’s really good at that.”

“I don’t care how many hours it takes. I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”

“You wouldn’t be the mom you are if you weren’t going a little out of your mind,”

“I’d forgotten what this felt like.” “Being hugged?” My voice was sandpaper-rough. “Being held together.”

To me, the most attractive quality in a woman is her ability to give of herself, and Ella, you do that in spades.

Damn, I wanted her. Wanted every aspect of her—her laughter, her tears, her kids, her body, her heart. I wanted everything.

I laughed and for the first time realized that I was utterly, completely content with my life. Even if I never got Ella, never tasted her mouth, never touched her skin, never kept her in bed on a rainy Sunday morning or heard her say the three little words I was starved for, this moment was enough.

“Holy shit, you move fast.” There was no fear or rejection in her eyes, just surprise. “Not in every arena,” I promised.

“You have to fight for what you know to be right. Stand up for the people who need your protection. Never let anyone tell you that you’re anything less than a warrior because you’re a girl. Because in my experience, girls are the strongest warriors. Maybe that’s why all the boys try to keep them out of battle. They’re scared they’ll get shown up.”

“It’s a good thing, though. Missing him. Grief means you had someone worth grieving.”

You have my word, my body, my time, and I’m standing here offering my last name. What else can I give you?”

I’d be too scared I’d screw up a kid.

I can’t make my wants any clearer, and I can’t be the one who always has to chase you. If you want me physically, but don’t want me, then say it. Because I’m done listening to you tell me no like there’s something wrong with me.”

“Because I know once they’re stroking over that soft skin, there’s no way I’m going to be able to breathe without taking you, sliding inside you like I’ve fantasized about for entirely too long.”

“You are so…” I waved my hands in his direction. “All that is just… I don’t have words.” “Good,” he said, dropping his shirt to the floor. “Because I’m going to need to use that mouth for other things besides talking.”

I hadn’t told her because I didn’t want to lose the look from her face. Didn’t want to lose the warmth of her love, her body, her heart. I wasn’t ready for my dream to be over yet. Hell, I didn’t tell her because I was selfish and in so deep now that there was no getting out.

“I’m in love with you. I was in love with you before we slept together, and I’ll be in love with you for the rest of my life if my heart is any indication. Nothing about last night changed that. I’m me. You’re you. We’re…whatever you want us to be.”

“Ha. Because from the moment I saw your face and heard you speak, you were the only one I wanted. You ruined me for anyone else before you ever knew my name.”

“Then I’m greedy, too. Because I’d give up anything for her to have the time. For you to have it.”

“No. Ryan’s letter got me here. I wouldn’t have come without it. But the rest, Ella, that was all because I love you. Because I love Colt and Maisie. Because for this brief, shining moment, you were my family, my future, and it looked a lot like forever. I didn’t do all of that for Ryan. I did it for you. For me.”

“Hope is good. Feel it. Because we have no idea what’s coming around the corner. You have to take the good when it comes, because the bad isn’t going to give you a choice.”

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

“We figure it out together. And if you can’t breathe, I’ll do it for you. One morning at a time. Minute by minute if we have to.”