I’m sorry.
I’m sorry so very much it hurts me daily. There isn’t a day that goes by you’re not on my mind.
What would you look like? I’m sure you would be tall like your daddy and have my attitude. I’m sure Daddy would be spoiling you rotten. I can imagine you on the beach with us, building sandcastles, splashing in the water. I see Daddy showing you the different wrenches for the cars he and Grandpa are building.
When you got older, I would take you shopping and show you how to put on makeup. All the fun girly stuff. Then a boy would come along and your daddy would probably run him off with a baseball bat. I can totally see that. But I would calm him down and the boy would take you out.
Birthday parties.
Learning to ride a bike.
Graduations.
Weddings.
I can see it all in my head, but it’s because of me you’re not here.
Okay, deep down (way deep down), I know there’s a sliver of a chance it’s an act of nature for you to not have survived, but I’m your mother. It’s because of me your daddy and I visit a gravestone, and you aren’t walking around us.
I don’t think I ever told anyone that I wanted to be a mother more than anything. Especially when I met Daddy. I knew we would be amazing parents. Of course, I’d be the cool mom who knew all the hip lingo and Daddy would be the dork we made fun of. Daddy would have just laughed at us and made us laugh harder at his silly ways.
I remember I would ask my parents why I was an only child, but they never really told me why. Would you ask for sibling like I did? I bet you would. And I did want more kids.
Did?
Did.
Oh, sweet baby girl, I don’t know anymore. My train of thought is so off track I don’t think I’ll ever find a straightaway again. When I would get this way before, Daddy would set me straight. It’s the truth. He was always level-headed and smart. He saw the trees through the forest.
It’s why I love him. It’s how I know you would have been the greatest child in the world. Now, you’re our guardian angel, and I will forever love you.
Love,
Mom
I read the letter again and it’s a bunch of my rambling, jumbled thoughts. I’m not eloquent like Jordan. I swipe the tears away as I put the letter into an envelope. I smooth out the next page and take a deep breath. I can do this.
My Jordan,
I’m not going to lie to you. I’m being forced to do this by my therapist. Yes, I’m going to a therapist. I know you suggested I go to one before, but as always, I’m stubborn and hardheaded. Even though I’m still not as bad as you in that department.
However, I want to say things to you. So many and I’m not sure where to start. Maybe if I list them it’ll be easier.
One, I love you. I do. I always have. It’s a different love than when I first said it. Do you remember when I said it? It was after one of our dates, I can’t remember which one, but I was sitting on the hood of my car and you were kissing my neck, and I blurted it out. Do I always blurt stuff out? Don’t answer that, because I know I do. I remember your smile in the moonlight after the words came out. I saw the love in your eyes. I still see it, but there’s pain there too.
Two, I’m the cause of your pain. Why the hell do you want me? Can’t you even see the pain I’ve caused you, us, our families, our life? How can you still love me? Why would you?
Three, you want kids and Jordan, I don’t know if I can deal with the fear of losing another baby. I’m still not over our Eden. I’m never going to be. I don’t know how much more I can explain it to you. If Eden had lived, I would have never left you. So, yes, I am selfish in a way. I ran away from you and threw myself into work and opening a salon in hopes I’d forget you and Eden, but it’s not working. You two are on my mind more and more and it’s like a roller coaster out of control. I need to be grounded and you did that for me. Without you, I’m like a plastic bag in the wind.
I don’t know how to fix us, me, or our life. I wish there was an easy answer, but there isn’t one.
Jordan, you don’t deserve to stop your life because I’m a basket case. I only want you to be happy. You were always happy before all of this. You would smile and crack jokes and be…you. I want you to be you again, even if it’s not with me.
I love you, forever and always,
Heidi
I stand by the truck. I’d planned on leaving them on the windshield, but I can’t do it. I want to hand them to him. Patty had been impressed when I told her this morning I would be doing this. I’m shaking like a leaf though. They’re not letters of hope. They’re goodbye letters and I want to do it in person. I’ve run away enough from Jordan.
“Heidi?”
I turn toward Jordan’s voice.
“What are you doing here?”
I open my mouth, but I can’t say anything. I gaze up and down his body. He’s in jeans and a t-shirt. His hair is slightly damp and I can smell his cologne from where I am.
“Heidi.” He steps closer to me and my body reacts.
I hug him. I bury my face in his hard chest, and when he places his arms around me, I’m safe. I can hear his heart pumping and I know I’m giving him false hope, but I need this.
I need the closure.
I step back and the tears are on the brim of my eyes. Jordan’s brown eyes are confused, and I can still see the pain. The pain I’ve caused, but not anymore.
“You’re the greatest person I’ve ever met,” I choke out the words. I take his hand and turn it palm up, placing the letters in his hands. I want to shout I love you, but I give him a last smile and walk away. The pain is deep in my chest, and it’s like someone is twisting a knife. I’m the one twisting the knife.
And it’ll be there forever.
***
MY LEG IS bouncing up and down a mile a minute as I stare at the two envelopes on my kitchen table, sitting side by side. Tanner is finally in his new place, so I don’t have to worry about being interrupted. Seeing Eden’s and my name written in Heidi’s handwriting is terrifying me. My gut isn’t giving me any good feelings about whatever is inside. To make it worse, I don’t know which to open first.
I drum my fingers in the table before snatching up the one addressed to Eden. My chest constricts as I rip open the envelope and unfold the sheet of paper. My eyes soak in every word. Once I’ve finished reading, so many thoughts overwhelm me.
She never told me she blamed herself.
What does she mean she promised she would write her a letter?
My throat burns because I’m suffocating on emotions as my eyes sting with unshed tears. I hate that she’s in so much pain. I hate that she’s not letting me all the way in. I hate that she’s forcing herself to get through this without me. But I also see a touch of hope burn a little brighter. She still loves me; she’s just keeping me away for her own, crazy reasons.
With a deep breath, I open my letter.
Ah, so she’s seeing a therapist. The hope burns a little brighter because she’s seeking out help on her own. And then the hope dies a bit because she says she doesn’t love me the same way. Her letter is so contradicting. She doesn’t want me to hurt; yet she knows it’s her actions causing it.
Does she think I expect her to ‘get over’ Eden? That’s not something one can overcome. All I want is to make the pain more bearable, so we can still live our lives. Or, if it’s what she truly wants, for her to live her life with all the happiness she can get. I don’t expect her to be pain-free because I know it’s not possible. And it absolutely kills me that she’s admitting to leaving me for the sole reason of our daughter dying.
It’s a knife to the heart that I’m being forced to acknowledge that just maybe I truly am causing her more pain than anything else. Don’t get me wrong, I figured as much, but what I didn’t account for was that it overwhelmed the love we have for one another, that it’s stronger than we are right now.
Heidi’s letter leaves me so confused, yet with a touch
of clarity. My wife still loves me, but maybe she knew she really needed to leave me. Maybe she does need the space away from me while she works on her issues. She’s sought out a therapist and is working on it. I’m still not going to give up on us, but I think I’m going to take a small step back and figure out a way to let her know that I’m still here, I still care, I still love her, and I’m not going anywhere. I can wait until she feels ready to face a future with me.
Even if that future doesn’t involve her having our kids.
I would give up any dream of mine to make the dream of having her in my life forever a reality.
With that in mind, I grab a legal pad and a pen.
To my wife,
Thanks for the letters. I felt as if I needed to respond to them, so I am. Plus, if I don’t do it now, I’ll have to wait until after this upcoming road trip and I don’t want to wait. There are a few things I need to tell you.
I love you. You should know this, but it never hurts to have it repeated. And Heidi, I’ll repeat it every second of every day of every year for the rest of my life. I love you and I can’t just stop, can’t just let you go, so I’m not.
It’s not your fault. If it’s your fault, then it’s my fault, too. If you can blame yourself, then I can blame myself. I should’ve been home more. I should have waited on your every need more. I should’ve taken better care of you, so you could’ve taken better care of her. So, if you’re going to blame yourself, please blame me, too.
I know there’s no full recovery from her death. I experienced it, too, remember? I lost her the moment you did. I had to pack up the nursery. I had to try to hold you together while falling apart as well. I was standing next to you when we buried her. I was there too. I feel her loss too. I know it will never hurt less. All I want is for us to be able to handle it enough so that it doesn’t destroy us. Eden wouldn’t want her parents to be that way.
I’ll do anything to keep you. You are what makes my life so great. You are what keeps me going even when you’re the one pushing me away. All I want in this entire world is you. If you don’t want any more kids, then okay. I’ll do whatever we need to do make sure it doesn’t happen. If you still want a family, we can adopt. If you don’t, then okay. I’m thrilled at the possibility of having you all to myself until the day I die. If you need me to wait for you, to give you space to heal, then okay. You’ll have space. Anything you want, Heidi, you can have it. As long as it means you’re with me in the end.
I’m happy you’re finally taking care of yourself. I just hope that one day, you’ll let me take care of you again. That one day you’ll let me help carry the weight on your shoulders. That one day you’ll let me love you the way we both need me to. Because, Heidi, I want you to be happy too. And I know that we were both happiest together.
Don’t work too much. Relax every now and then. Remember that I’m always here for you.
With all my love,
Your husband
“Hey, Sofia. Is Blake going to go off on me if I ask for your godly hands?”
She laughs. “No, he won’t because he knows I’ll kill him if he does. What’s bugging you?” she asks as she begins to wash her hands.
“My shoulder.” I take a seat in the chair where I know she’ll want me. “How’s the pregnancy going?”
“Let’s just put it this way. Blake is causing me more aches and pains than our baby boy.” She begins to press her fingers into my shoulder.
I laugh. “Him being overbearing is better than the opposite.”
“I know.” Her voice lowers to a whisper, “I know I complain, but I love it. I just can’t let Blake know or else, he’ll be uncontrollable.”
I chuckle because she’s probably right.
“Can I ask you something, Jordan?”
“Sure.”
There’s a pause as she hesitates. “What happened with your wife? Blake said you’re separated. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, but I don’t know. I’m sorry.” When I don’t respond after a few seconds, she repeats, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say, clearing my throat. “I just don’t think telling you is the best idea.”
Her hands freeze on my shoulder. “Why?”
“If I tell you, then I might as well spill about everything.”
She resumes massaging my shoulder. “I can handle it. I mean, I know I’m more emotional than usual, but I’m still strong. I only asked because I have this crazy idea that somehow I can help.”
My laugh holds no humor. “There’s nothing you can do, Sofia.”
She sighs, not happy with my response, even though it’s true. “Fine. Tell me about her then.”
“Do you ever give up?” I joke.
“Nope. Tell me.”
I laugh. “Okay.” My mind fills with every single detail about Heidi. “Where do you want me to start?”
“What does she do?”
“She owns Above a Dream salon, and she is a hairdresser, too.”
“Really? I’ve heard of that place.”
“Yeah, she opened it when she left me. She’s good. I still get her to cut my hair.”
“That’s nice,” she replies. “What is she like in a handful of words?”
“Stubborn, hardheaded, strong, caring, amazing,” I grit the last word when she applies more pressure. She was made for this job.
“Do you think you’ll be able to work things out?”
For all my will and promises to not give up, I still have no idea how things will end up. “I don’t know. I hope so, but I don’t know. It’s all up to her.”
The air in the room is too serious, so I’m thankful when Sofia giggles. “If I can make Grumpy a happy, committed man, you can get your wife back.”
I laugh. “Thanks.”
“Okay, you’re all done. Hopefully, it won’t bother you on the road. I hope everything works out for you, Jordan.”
“Thanks, Sofia,” I smile. After a shower, I’m ready to leave. I have to deliver Heidi’s letter, but first, I’m going to stop and get her a gift certificate to her favorite masseuse. Who knows when the last time she treated herself to a massage? Or the last time she let herself relax. Maybe if I get it for her, she’ll go.
When I arrive at the salon, as usual, I’m tempted to go inside. I want to see her, especially before being gone on the road. But I’ve promised I would give her a little more space. So, I stick the letter under her windshield wiper and leave.
***
PATTY STARES AT me as I sob harder. Jordan’s letter have left me in a state of cries, anger, and confusion. For the past week, all I can do is eat everything in sight. All of it. There’s not enough food in the land for me to eat. I’ve never been an emotional eater, but this time, all I can do is shove more carbs, sweets, and salty foods into my mouth.
“He’s given you every answer you want. Why are you not rushing into his arms?” Patty asks.
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I don’t know. I want to rush to him and then again, I can’t bear the thought of not letting him live his life to the fullest.”
Patty twists her mouth side-to-side before speaking. “Heidi, what was your first thought when Jordan asked you to marry him?”
“I love him and I couldn’t wait to start our life together.”
“When he first said he loved you back, what did you think?”
“That I was the luckiest person in the world.”
“When you first became pregnant?”
I sniffle. “My life was complete.”
“And who did you want by your side when Eden died?”
“Jordan,” I mouth without saying his name.
“Who do you think Jordan wants by his side?”
I remain quiet.
“He told you in his letter.”
“I know,” I speak.
Patty sighs deeply. “Oh, Heidi, you are positively the most stubborn person I’ve ever had the pleasure of workin
g with. However, this is making it worse on you and him. If you love him as much as you tell me in here, then you need to get off this couch and run to him.”
I listen to her, but the words aren’t sticking to me.
“You’ve said time and time again, you don’t want to hurt him, but you are.”
I turn away from her and the tears slide down.
“No matter how you think you want to feel, it’s not how you really feel.” She pauses. “Heidi, parents who’ve lost a child have a pain I can’t even explain. The strong ones, like you and Jordan, have their rough patch and rely on each other to make it through the dark times. You need Jordan. Jordan needs you. You both need each other.”
I close my eyes. The words ring true to my soul.
I run my hands through my hair. I have one more client and then I can go home and rest. I’ve been eating so much; I’m making myself sick again. Skye and Colette are about to leave. This client needed a late appointment due to a travel schedule. I’m fine with locking up.
“Sofia,” I call out to the redhead sitting in the waiting area. “You can follow me.” I smile as she does. When she stands, I see her perfectly round belly. My heart constricts for a second, but I don’t let it show on my face. I need to remain professional.
“Great,” she says brightly and trails behind me to my chair.
Once I have her all set, I ask her what she wants. “Just a trim. Nothing too much, though. My boyfriend might pass out if I come home with a pixie cut.” She laughs and I follow suit.
“Okay. I promise nothing drastic.” I direct her over to the shampoo counter and begin my routine.
When we’re back at the chair and I’ve towel-dried her hair, I start my usual small talk. “Are you from here in Memphis?”
“Born and raised. You?”
“South Carolina.”
“What made you move here?”
I stutter for a second before pulling myself together. “My husband relocated here.” I don’t say Jordan’s a baseball player. That opens a whole other set of worms. “How far along are you?”
“Almost six months.” She glows when she answers.
Jordan Page 12
