by M. A. Foster
She lets out a long sigh, her shoulders sagging. “I have your letter.”
I suck in a breath and push off the counter as my heart somersaults in my chest. Setting my coffee mug down, I round the island and hold out my hand.
“Before I give it to you, I want you to know that these letters were never written with the intention of hurting you. I’ve always believed the reason he held on for as long as he did—” Her voice cracks, and a big fat tear rolls down her cheek. “—is because he was afraid to leave you.”
Tears fill my eyes as I watch her pick up the envelope with my father’s familiar writing on the front and hold it out to me. Taking the envelope, I turn and rush out of the kitchen and up the stairs toward my bedroom. Tears are streaming down my face as I pass Olivia standing in her open doorway. Concern mars her face, but I give her a slight shake of my head before disappearing into my room and slamming the door.
Falling onto my bed, I press the envelope to my chest and take a deep breath, wiping away the tears before tearing it open.
To my beautiful Jaybird,
This is the hardest letter to write because it’s my last. Today is your wedding day, and as you stand before the mirror in your white gown (it better be white), know that I’m standing behind you with the biggest smile on my face. (Okay, I’m probably scowling a little, but on the inside I’m smiling.)
After today, you’re not just my little girl anymore. You’re someone’s wife. Someone’s better half. And one day, you’ll become someone’s mother. These are the thoughts that are weighing heavily on my heart, because your husband and future children are so lucky to have you.
I thank God every day for giving you to me and letting me be your dad to nurture and love. I do love you, my little Jaybird, with all of my heart and soul. I loved you before you were born.
Today, as you walk down the aisle toward the lucky man whom you’ve decided is worthy of your hand, I’ll be walking beside you. Still scowling, but I’ll be proud. No matter what, I’m always proud of you.
I love you always and forever, my beautiful sweet girl.
Daddy
Clutching the letter to my chest, I roll to my side and cry so fucking hard that my chest feels like it’s been ripped open and my heart torn out. A hard lump forms at the base of my throat, and I can’t breathe. I miss him so fucking much, and I feel like I’ve just had to let him go all over again.
Zach
Exiting the gym, Bass and I walk into the kitchen just as Olivia comes in from the direction of the stairs.
“Zach, you should go check on Jay,” she says. “She’s upstairs crying. I could hear her from down the hall.”
I turn my questioning glare to Emerson. She presses a hand to her chest. “I gave her Marcus’s last letter.”
All I can think as I hurry from the kitchen and up the stairs is how much it gutted me to read just one of Marcus’s letters. How the hell she’s been able to get through them for the past year is mind-boggling to me.
The sound of her cries pierce through the walls, drifting down the hallway. Jogging to our bedroom, I push open the door and find her curled in the fetal position, her body racked with deep, gut-wrenching sobs. I rush over to the bed, planting a knee on the mattress as I turn her over. Her face is red, swollen, and soaked with tears. Gone is my sassy, brave girl, and in her place is that grieving, heartbroken little girl who misses her dad.
Prying the letter from her hands, I tuck it inside the drawer of the nightstand before climbing into bed, placing my back against the headboard, and pulling her into my arms. She buries her face in my chest and continues to sob as I rub a soothing hand down her back, kissing her head. “I know it hurts, babe. I got you. Let it all out.”
It’s a good thirty minutes before her body stops shuddering and her breaths even out. She cried herself to sleep. I have never seen my girl cry like this. Not even when she broke down at her father’s funeral.
There’s a soft tap on the door before Emerson pokes her head inside. “Is she okay?”
The crestfallen look on her face sends a pang of sadness through my chest. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be in her head. Losing the love of her life while caring for an emotional teenage daughter who is still trying to find her place in a world created by her rock star father.
“I doubt it.” I offer her a sad smile. “But I think she was long overdue for a good cry, don’t you?”
Emerson sighs, her shoulders sagging. “Yeah, I guess. I just hate when she’s hurting. It makes me feel helpless.”
“I think we all feel that way when someone we love is hurting. But you of all people should know that hurt is inevitable. All you can do is just be there and help them through it.”
Emerson hasn’t always been my favorite person with the way she’d been sneaking around with Cam and keeping secrets. But she’s always treated me with respect. Even after the way my mom had treated Jay. And even after the times I’d hurt Jay.
After the parking garage incident, also known as the worst day of my life, the dynamics of our relationship changed. We grew closer, as our one common goal was to help Jay recover. And physically, she has recovered 100 percent. But mentally and emotionally, it’s going to take time.
Emerson nods in understanding and leans against the doorframe. “You’re going to be a good husband, Zach.”
Damn right I am.
Jayla
Zach curls an arm around my waist and pulls me back against his chest. “How are you feeling today, babe?” He presses a kiss to my shoulder.
“Much better,” I reply as I reach back and rake my fingers through his soft, wavy hair.
“That’s good.” He tosses the covers back and smacks me on the butt before rolling out of bed. “Get up. Let’s go for a run.”
The past week has been rough, and if it hadn’t been for the wedding planning and Zach forcing me out of bed every morning, I might have fallen down the rabbit hole again. I’ve FaceTimed with Dr. Ramos every day this week, because admittedly, I needed her. I thought I was past the hard part, but that’s not how grief works. I’m going to have bad days, and I know that. I’ve had many bad days, and I weathered through them just fine with just a few tears. But reading that last letter brought me back to the day my father took his last breath with me lying right beside him. Holding him. And it broke me all over again.
Rolling to my back, I groan. “Not today, Z. I’m still sore from yesterday.”
He appears in the doorway of the bathroom with a toothbrush in hand. “Then put on a bathing suit and let’s go for a swim in the lake. Or I have a better idea—let’s take the boat out.”
I huff out a laugh. “I’m not getting in that lake. My mom says there are gators in it.”
“Your mom is full of shit. The lake is maintained weekly. There are no gators in that lake.” He disappears into the bathroom, and I grab my phone from the nightstand to check my messages.
There’s a text from Olivia. I’m having breakfast with my sister this morning. Didn’t want you to worry. Be back later.
I’ve been so caught up in my own shit this past week that I haven’t paid much attention to Olivia. I’m sorry for being a shitty friend this week. I’ll make it up to you. We’re taking the boat out today. Wanna come?
Her reply is instant. You are not a shitty friend. You are amazing, and I love your face. Boat sounds fun. Be there soon.
Zach
“Good morning, brats,” Emerson singsongs as she enters the kitchen. She snags a piece of bacon from the platter on the island and accepts a glass of orange juice from Grace before leaning with her back against the counter.
We haven’t seen much of her this week, other than a quick pop in to check on Jay and to make sure she’s keeping up on her phone sessions with Dr. Ramos. She, my mom, and our grandmothers have been working hard on this wedding, so Jay and I have been diligent in doing everything she asks of us.
“We have a lot of wedding stuff to go over today. And don’t make any
plans for tonight, because we’re having a family dinner.” She brings the glass of orange juice to her lips, causing her nightshirt to shift, and my gaze falls to her stomach. She looks—
“Mom, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you need to cut back on the wine.” Jay gestures to her stomach. “You got a little pooch going on there. You look pregnant.”
Emerson’s gaze drops to her stomach.
“That’s because she is pregnant,” Cam’s voice rings out from behind us, and I feel Jay go stiff beside me.
I look over my shoulder to see Cam sauntering into the kitchen wearing drawstring pajama pants and a T-shirt, smiling like he hasn’t just rocked my wife’s world.
What the fuck?
“Good morning, Grace,” Cam greets, kissing her on the cheek before moving over to Emerson. “Good morning, babe.” He kisses her on the lips, then bends to press a kiss to her pooch. “Good morning, little man.”
The sound of silverware clanks loudly before I feel Jay’s face pressed into the side of my chest. Wrapping my arm around her, I pull her against me, feeling her body shake, her tears soaking through my shirt.
“Jay.” Emerson sets her glass down on the counter and comes to her side. “Jay.” She presses a hand to the middle of her back, and I shoot Emerson an angry glare over the top of Jay’s head, letting her know exactly what I think of her at the moment. I thought we’d agreed there would be no more keeping secrets from her. “Tell me what’s going on in your head right now.” If she were to ask me that question, I’d tell her I think she’s an asshole for keeping that kind of news from her daughter.
My eyes dart to Cam, who’s pinning me with a warning glare, silently telling me to keep my fucking mouth shut.
Jay straightens in her seat and wipes the tears from her face. “You promised no more secrets. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Emerson sighs. “We only found out a couple weeks ago. I was trying to wait until after the wedding, because these past few weeks have been about you and Zach, and I didn’t want to take anything away from your special day.”
My gaze flicks to Cam again, and he jerks his head in a short nod, confirming it’s the truth.
“Okay. I get it.” She sniffs. “That explains why you’ve been such a crybaby lately,” Jay says, and I fight back a laugh as she twists in her seat and throws her arms around Emerson’s neck. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Are you really?” Tears stream down Emerson’s face as they hug it out, and suddenly I feel like I’m intruding inside their mother-daughter bonding bubble.
“You understand this won’t change anything between you and me, right?” Emerson asks, stroking Jay’s hair.
Jay nods and pulls away to ask, “You’re having a boy?”
“Yes.” Emerson nods, and I look back to Cam to see him grinning. I can’t help but return his grin. I’ve never seen him so happy. “We found out yesterday,” Emerson continues. “He’s due in November. I wanted to wait until after the wedding to find out, but someone”—she turns to glare at Cam over her shoulder—“couldn’t wait.”
Cam gives Emerson a careless shrug as he finishes off her glass of orange juice.
“I’ll forgive you for lying on two conditions,” Jay says.
“What?” Emerson asks with a smile.
Jay holds up her hand and begins to tick off her fingers. “One, I get to throw you a baby shower, and two, I get first dibs on babysitting.”
“Deal,” Cam agrees.
“So does this mean you guys are getting married?” Jay asks, and my gaze bounces from Cam to Emerson.
“No,” Emerson says at the same time Cam says, “Eventually.” Cam shoots her a playful wink, and she smiles, shaking her head.
I hadn’t witnessed the realness of Cam and Emerson’s relationship before today. Cam is in the middle of the season, so he’s not around much, but the times I had seen them together, it had always been Emerson leaving Cam’s or them locked in his bedroom. I have to admit the love between them is clear.
“We’re taking things one day at a time.” Cam rolls his eyes. “Your mother isn’t ready for marriage, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to ask her every single day until she says yes. But she is moving in with me,” he adds.
“I didn’t even think about that.” Jay leans back against me, and I hear her sniff. “You said nothing would change between us. This house is big enough. We can all live here.”
I turn my attention to Cam, and it’s my turn to shoot him a warning glare telling him there’s not a chance in hell, man.
“Jay,” Cam says, leaning with his elbows on the counter across from her. “Sweetheart, this is part of growing up. You’re starting a new chapter in life with your husband. The previous chapters are still a part of your story, but now you’re getting to the good part.”
“Dude, that’s deep.” I chuckle.
“Fine.” Jay sighs. “But I’m keeping Grace,” she adds, prompting laughter from all of us, including Grace.
I hold out my fist to Cam. “Congratulations, man.”
Zach
The rehearsal dinner was held at an elite club called Private Affair, which is known for catering to high-profile celebrities, athletes, and wealthy businessmen and is reservation only. It was probably the best place for our group. My dad knows the owner, so he was able to reserve the place for a few hours before they opened for the night. The guys from Royal Mayhem arrived earlier this afternoon, and Lucas, his bandmates, and Kali are here, too.
After dinner, Liam rallied the group, suggesting they take me to a strip club to celebrate my last night of freedom. I quickly shot that down. First of all, I’m already married. Second, I would never disrespect my wife by getting photographed walking into a strip club the night before our wedding. And third and most importantly, I’m not a fucking idiot. Liam is testing me.
We’re all now packed inside the VIP room my dad reserved for us guys while the girls head back to the house for a mini-bachelorette party for Jay.
Afterward, I’m supposed to go to my parents for the night because of that bullshit “it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding” rule. We’ll see about that.
The VIP room is equipped with a bar, leather sofas, and flat-screens lining two of the four walls. The other two walls are solid glass, one offering a view of the bay while the other overlooks the club.
Cam and I are kicking back on one of the sofas, watching a game on the flat-screen and discussing my position on Gulf Coast University’s football team, while Liam is stretched out in the adjacent armchair.
“Liam,” Max calls from the club-side window, where he’s standing with Dylan and Cole. He jerks his head to the side. “Come over here.”
Liam pushes up from the sofa and heads over to the window. Cole turns away from it and makes his way over to us.
“You should probably get him out of here,” Cole suggests as he plops down on the sofa next to Cam. “Vanessa is down there.”
“Fuck,” Cam murmurs as he stands from the sofa. “See you tomorrow.” He holds out a fist, and I pound mine against it.
“Later,” I say at the same time Cole says, “Good luck with that.”
Cam walks up behind Liam and says something in his ear. Liam nods and they both walk out, Liam keeping his head down.
Cole shakes his head. “I didn’t think it was possible for Liam to get so fucked up over a chick.”
I look over at him and scowl. “Pot meet kettle. And she was his wife, not just some chick.”
“Oh yeah.” He shakes his head. “Another family secret.”
“Speaking of wives, are you still nervous about proposing to Harper?”
He gives me a slight shake of his head. “Nah. We live together, and we’re doing the co-parenting thing with Willow. Things are really good.”
I shift on the sofa so I’m facing him. “You’re kinda my hero, you know?”
Cole grins. Folding his arms over his chest, he props his legs on the small coffe
e table, crossing them at the ankle. “Oh yeah? Tell me how awesome I am.”
I slug him in the shoulder. “Don’t be a jackass. I’m just saying, you had a kid at sixteen. You gave up partying and girls to be a dad. I don’t know anyone who would do that. Anyone else in your situation most likely would’ve given their kid up or pushed the responsibility onto someone else. But you didn’t do that. You accepted the help when you needed it, but you never took advantage. Willow is an amazing kid, and it’s because of you.” I look up and notice his face. “Dude, are you crying?”
“No,” he murmurs, swiping below his eye. “Enough with the emotional shit. I get enough of that at home.”
I throw my head back and laugh out loud. He’s such an asshole.
Jayla
A muffled whimpering sound coming from the other room pulls my attention from my iPad to my open doorway. What the hell was that? After the rehearsal dinner, the girls and I came back to the house, and they threw me a small lingerie party. I’m now the proud owner of some very questionable sex toys and provocative lingerie. I had no idea my friends were a bunch of kinky bitches.
Tossing the covers back, I set my iPad on the nightstand and grab my robe before making my way over to the doorway. The sound is coming from Olivia’s room. Padding across the hall, I knock lightly on the slightly open door before pushing it open all the way. The bedside lamps are on, but the bed is empty. The bathroom door is open, the light is on, and Olivia is hunched over the toilet, keening in misery.
Stepping behind her, I press a hand to her back. “Olivia, are you okay?”
“No,” she moans softly.
Moving over to the sink, I grab a washcloth and run it under cold water before placing it on the back of her neck. “Did you eat something bad?”
“No,” she whispers.
Plopping down on the floor Indian style, I grab her arm, pulling her away from the toilet and resting her head on my lap.
