Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I try to reason that he wasn’t thinking when he answered the phone. It’s normal for us to drop everything and tend to one another. He didn’t mean to let me know what he was doing. I’m thinking all of this, but none of it makes me feel any better about the situation. The visual is already there, silently plaguing me. Now all I can think about is his hands holding her face as he kisses her softly. His lips on her skin. His body rocking against hers as he whispers how beautiful she is. I shut my eyes tightly and cover my ears with my hands. I can’t deal with the thought. I can’t. I can’t think about him with somebody else anymore. I know I have no right to feel this way, but I can’t help it. The thought of him with another woman has been bothering the hell out of me lately.
I get up and press my palms to the counter. I look at my reflection, and I realize I look the way I feel—like death. My white frilly blouse is half tucked out of my navy blue pencil skirt. My clothes are wrinkled, my makeup is running, and my eyes are red. I have little freckles around my eyes from my convulsive vomit.
I laugh at myself. I can’t believe it took that to make me vomit. Why would he answer the phone in the middle of sex? I groan. The thought alone makes me hover over the toilet seat again. I need to hold it together. This is stupid, I tell myself repeatedly as I brush my teeth. When I finally get in the shower, I turn on the water and sit on the floor sobbing as I let the water wash away my sorrows. All the memories that usually haunt my nights have been brought to light, and I’m not sure where to go from here. I see three missed calls from Cole and decide to send him a text saying I’ll talk to him tomorrow and apologize for calling. I quickly turn off my phone and toss it aside before opening the letter from Shelley.
Blake,
This is going to be a lot to take in, so you may want to sit down to read this. I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you any of the answers you needed when you were with me. You were so young, and I couldn’t for many reasons that you wouldn’t understand. There is a lot more to your life than you realize. You will find out some things—if you haven’t already—that will make you doubt everything. Please doubt everything—just don’t let those things define you. You must be careful who you trust. I just want the best for you. I know you’re doing great things. I always knew you would make a difference in this world. This last part is very difficult for me to tell you even though I am no longer physically present. It may be harder because of that since I cannot defend my actions. I know you will hate me for this. I just hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me one day. If not, know that I’m very sorry and that I’ve always loved you very much.
Here I go... I’m not your aunt. Your mother and I spoke every day, and she sent me photos of you all the time. Sometimes, she would even bring you to visit me. I loved you with all my heart from the time you were born. The things I left for you in the safety deposit box are yours to do with as you please. I use Mark as your attorney for a reason; please do not question that. Mark is a good man and has your best interests at heart. If you ever need anything, he’ll be there for you. Maggie—Mrs. Parker—was also a friend of mine and your mother’s. I knew she would take good care of you. I know she did an amazing job with you. I’m sure you haven’t been able to find out much about your past—if you’ve looked. Not many people know the truth about what happened that night. I never knew the full story.
The name your parents gave you is Catherine Blake Brennan. I’m only giving you this bit of information so that you can continue your search for the truth. I hope I’m not hurting you more than I am helping you. Please don’t use that name—trust me on that. Burn this letter when you’re finished reading it.
I love you, Blake. Please don’t forget that.
Love,
Shelley
I sit stunned for a few seconds until the letter drops from my shaking hands. I try to fill my lungs with air, but I feel as though whatever air they had left vanished with my identity. I gasp for air a couple of times and bring my face between my knees until I calm myself down. I look at the time. 4:23. I wipe my face and take a couple of deep breaths before turning my phone back on.