The Last Letter

by Rebecca Yarros

“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.”

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.

“I like you, Mr. Beckett. You let my best friend borrow yours.” And just like that, I was a goner.

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

Although I couldn’t tell her, I loved this woman. I would take on armies for her, kill for her, or die for her.

“I will show up for you. For Colt. For Maisie. I will not walk away. I will not abandon you. I will not die.”

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.

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

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

“Now I’m like you, Mom.” “How, baby?” Her eyes stayed locked on Colt. “We both have brothers out here.”

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. And ours was more than enough. And so was I.