A Thousand Letters (The Austens #2)

by Staci Hart

dinner. Charlie leaned on the counter next to me. "I'm sorry about them." I shrugged and buttered the bread. "It's okay." "It's not really. They're horrible." "I can't argue that," I said with a soft laugh and a smile.

She'd breathed life into the room with quiet purpose, a distraction, a buffer. For my sisters, at least. For me, she was a curse, a presence that invaded my heart and thoughts.

I opened the door to find Lou and my aunt Jeannie.

She cupped my cheek like I was a little boy as she passed, and I was about to turn to follow her when Lou leapt into my arms, surprising me. "I'm so sorry. I just … I hope you're all right, Wade," she said, lips

near my ear, voice sincere. "I'm always here for you if you need me."

Sadie was just a baby, at home with our nanny. Dad was in class, lecturing on Dickenson. And Mom was at work at the Trade Center. She'd called Dad from the stairwell to say goodbye as the building burned and crumbled.

And so I decided at age ten that I was going to join the Army. I would protect all the moms from dying, all the dads from hurting, all the kids from losing their parents. It was all I wanted, until I met Elliot.

I turned to leave the room, breath shallow, needing air, needing clarity. Needing solitude. "Gonna go for a walk," I muttered to the room as I passed Lou. "I'll go with you," she offered, and I couldn't say no.

"We're here to help with whatever you need. Should we, ah, plan for Elliot when we bring food?" My jaw clenched. "Probably." Lou nodded slowly. "Sure. And she's … Sophie's friend?" "Her best friend." "Oh."

"She and Dad are close — he's her mentor. She's been a part of the family for almost ten years."

"Well, I just want you to know that I think you're really strong. We're lucky to have you. Just don't forget that it's okay to lean on us, too."

"You're what I give to the world, what I leave behind. I am proud." He said it slowly, every word with intention, with concentration, as if it were the most important thing he'd ever say. "Now, we have truth. Hold onto it."

Jeannie and Lou left first, and I didn't miss Lou holding Wade close or touching his hand before she walked away.

stone. "Those words are part of me, a real part of me, not fiction. They're my thoughts, my beliefs, my pain and joy. To subject my heart and soul to judgment is … well, it's terrifying." "I can understand that." "Maybe I'll be brave enough someday."

She laughed. I frowned. "Braveness isn't always loud. Sometimes it's silent. There's braveness in sacrifice and kindness. It's in doing a thing that needs to be done, even though it's hard, and even though it hurts."

own. "The nurse will be here in a couple of hours," I continued, "and I think Jeannie and Lou are bringing dinner again. Will you be staying?" She nodded as we approached the cascade. "If it's all right."

"Stop apologizing for your presence," I said, persuasion heavy in my words, in my heart. "Stop assuming you're not wanted. You have every right to be here with us, for us, for him. So stop disappearing. Stop hiding from what you wish for. Stop sacrificing yourself for everyone else."

Or maybe it had never existed at all outside of my mind. I was in love with a girl who had dreams, a girl who loved quietly and without expectation. But the girl before me had her dreams dashed, and she loved submissively, putting everyone else before herself until she found herself buried and gone. Maybe she had vanished after all, the seven years had passed by, erasing the features I had loved so well.

He was still angry, still hurt, and even as he spoke of the ways he wished me to change, he pulled me closer. Hot and cold. One extreme or the other. I was left reeling.

So I walked next to him in the cold, feeling ashamed and wrong, feeling that I'd been put back in my place. I accepted it, shrinking back into that small space where I could hide, disappear, even though he'd asked me not to while he pushed me into the role with his own hands.

I didn't know how to exist any other way, not anymore. My light had gone out when he left me years before.

Wade stepped around him to display him to the crowded room. Sadie sat at Rick's feet on the bed, and Sophie sat in an armchair. Lou waited on the couch, apparently next to where Ben had been. Consequently, she was looking at him like he was a warm chocolate

chip cookie.

"You're right. It's not fair. It's cruel and ugly and unjust. But we'll endure it for your dad because this is the sum of what we have to offer him — our love." She pursed her lips and nodded, eyes shining. "I'm just so glad you're here."

Sophie picked up a chair and smirked at me, changing the subject. "Did you see Lou?" I chuckled as we hauled the chairs out. "Hello, nurse." She laughed. "Seems like she's already given up on Wade." "Thou art not false, but thou art fickle," I recited. "Byron?" "He knew his stuff." "Well, good riddance on that front anyway. Cousins dating? That's straight out of an Austen novel."

Rick laughed. "Get used to it. They're all in spoil mode. Watch out, or you might even get sponge baths." "Only if I'm lucky," Ben said with a smirk.

"No, I'm not. I want to be around her, but I don't know how. I want to ignore her, but I don't know how to do that either. So I asked her to walk with me and it was a disaster."

"Wonder what's gotten into her," he said as we walked down the steps. I chuckled and adjusted my hat. "Who knows." "She treats you like that a lot." "Most of the time." He shook his head, eyes on me. "Why do you put up with it?" I smiled over at him, not minding the judgment. "Charlie asked me the same thing the other day." "Well, he's a smart guy."

"That makes me sad, Elliot. To think that you endure people who treat you with no respect just to be noble."

I frowned. "That's not why. I barely interact with Mary most of the time — I'm working at the bookstore or alone with the kids every day, caring for them in the evenings, and then writing when they're asleep." "Sounds lonely."

… Lou and Ben, I realized as I approached. Lou was laughing, and she laid a hand on Ben's arm where it rested on the island counter. He leaned toward her, smiling, and relief slipped over me at her redirected attention.

"I'm not interested in Lou. She's all yours." He smiled. "Thank you. I haven't wanted to bring it up with everything going on, but …" He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushing. "I'm into her. Really into her."

"Have you decided how much longer you'll be here?" He scowled at that, glaring at me. "Why? Already tired of me? We've only just gotten here, and you're already pushing us out the door. And it's not even your door!"

"What about you? Planning on nannying forever?" "God, I hope not," I said with a laugh. "My dream is to write, have my work published, but I'm not ready yet. I'm kind of … in limbo. Pretty much the only thing I can do with a literature degree is write or get certified to teach."

"It sounds that way. It sounds like you're saying that because I don't stand up to them that I'm weak. But here's the thing — there's no point.

Arguing will not change their behavior, and it helps no one, especially not me. I don't suffer very often because I don't let them hurt me. My being present is a choice. My enduring their judgment is a choice. My choice, and therein lies my power. I stay for the kids. I stay because, believe it or not, Mary and Charlie have helped me, and I repay that gladly. So my sister is condescending and demanding, just like my father. They've always been this way, and I've always been the way I am. I have my reasons, but I want you to understand that this is my choice. I endure enough judgment from them — I would really rather not receive it from you too."

Did my family weaken me? Possibly. Did they take advantage of me? Definitely. But I imagined arguing with Mary, and the thought held no promise. She would never change — none of them would. It was one thing to defend my own choices to someone sort of unaffiliated, like Jack. It was another thing entirely to convince Mary she'd done something to hurt me — she'd only blame me, tell me I was wrong for feeling the way I did. It was pointless, a waste of energy for an affirmation I didn't need.

At that, he looked over his shoulder, his eyes full of hurt and anger. "What's wrong?" He stood, turning to face me like a brick wall. "What's wrong? Everything is wrong, Elliot. I've been sitting in this house for a week waiting, just waiting. Waiting for the seconds, the minutes to count down until the end. I've got my dad to think about. I've got my sisters to think about. I've got everyone to think about before myself. So no. I'm not okay. And no, I don't want your help."

"Give him time." The sun poured in through the window, a slant of light that served as a stage for dancing dust motes. "We've had seven years, and it hasn't gotten any easier or simpler."

I shook my head. "You've given me hope and purpose. You've shown me what it means to be loved and cared for, and I don't know what I'll do without you."

You are loved and cared for, with or without me. So please, don't break or bend. Don't crumble and fall. Stand up tall and face the sun and remember me."

"Life is short, so short, so precious, every minute, every day. Don't let the people you love, the people who make you happy, the people who bring you joy — don't let them go. Hang on to them, even when it hurts. When it seems impossible. Hold on to the things that breathe life into you. Listen to your soul and honor what it tells you. Live. Fight for what you love. Because one day, you'll be where I am, and in that moment I want you to look back gladly, with no regrets."

"I'm sorry, Elliot," he whispered as he pulled away, slipping away from me like smoke. "Why are you sorry?" I asked, though I knew the answer. "I shouldn't have …" He swallowed hard and sat on the edge of the bed, the pain on his face mirroring the pain in my heart. "I can't do this to you, to me. Not now. I need time." "Time?" I asked as I sat, my heart weak and broken. "I asked for time once, and you wouldn't give it. I've given so much." The words trembled and broke.

I couldn't take everyone's pain like I had so willingly. I couldn't give any more because I had nothing left.

Her. That was the moment I came alive. I crawled through that window and into her arms. I poured myself into her until I was empty again.

I'd been empty ever since. I left simply because I couldn't stay. I'd made a mistake, crossed a line in going there, unable to see past myself. And when I left, I broke her again with my clumsy, numb hands.

I was not ready for today, and there was nothing that could stop it from happening. Today was here and waiting to be endured, survived.

Three days had passed, and I hadn't stepped foot in their home. There was nothing to be done there, not by me, and Sophie had come to me. She didn't want to be home, either. So we spent the days in my room when she wasn't with Sadie, who'd been staying with a friend too.

What I hadn't told her was that Wade had come to me that night. She spoke about him as if things were the same as they had been, as if he hadn't come to me for comfort and left when he'd gotten what he'd come for.

My heart cracked and crumbled with every word. He was in pain (I knew, I could feel it as if I'd taken a part of him with me) and he didn't know how to manage that pain (I knew this too, without a shadow of a doubt). But I'd been used up and left alone.