Page 77 of Holding On

“No, because you don’t give up. You never quit, despite the bullshit with Rick, your mother, fighting for your recovery, processing your grief with Fiona’s passing, managing all of that, but still somehow finding a way to smile and make others smile every single day.”

She’s incredible.

“What would be the alternative?”

“Letting it swallow you whole.” My honesty is blunt, but it would be so easy for her to let go and allow the pain to consume her—but that’s not my girl.

Tinsley shakes her head. “No, that’s not an option. And it’s not because I’m strangely optimistic like Cami or even naturally sunshine and happy like Vivian. I’m stubborn as hell.”

“What do you mean?”

“People have tried to break me, and they may have damaged me, but I won’t let them win.” She softly shakes her head, and I run my hand up along her jaw, not missing how she leans into my touch. “If I let the anger and rage consume me, they win. If I become a miserable person that lets that hurt be the driving force in my life, they win. If I allow them to be right about how I’m just defective or unlovable, they win—and I won’t let them win. I’m stubborn.”

I scrunch my eyebrows and rear back slightly. “You are not damaged or defective at all, Tinsley Sinclair. That’s not true.”

She softly raises a shoulder in a shrug as if she didn’t just sucker punch me with that statement. “Agree to disagree, Jack.”

“No, fuck that, Red. You are not defective or damaged.”

The note.

The fucking note.

I growl—like a fucking bear as it all clicks.

“Wait … is that what you meant when you wrote the note in the hotel room?”

“That was years ago, Jack. But … yeah, I mean, it’s fine. No one is perfect, and I’m happy with who I am and I’m working on the rest of it. It’s a lot easier without being yelled at daily or having bullshit quite literally beat into me.” She looks away from me, but with my hand still on her jaw, I steer her gaze back to mine.

“I’m going to get up to go get something, but I’m not walking away from you or this conversation, okay?” She’s confused but nods as I carefully shift her off my chest and stand up from the couch. I walk down the hall to the office area in the corner of my penthouse.

Tilting the correct book away from the bookshelf behind my desk, a row of books silently moves forward and lifts up and out of the way, revealing the safe Liam helped me conceal in here. I doubt Tinsley even hears it around the corner; it’s so quiet. The biometrics security features scan my face as I place my thumb on the fingerprint scanner. I don’t keep many things in this specific safe, but this piece of paper has been in here for over three years. It has a single crease from where I folded the sheet of paper in half, but otherwise, it’s in the same condition it was when Tinsley wrote on it after sneaking out of my bed.

I step back and the safe closes, with the bookshelf silently moving back into place as I walk back to the living room area. I pinch the folded piece of paper between two fingers and hold it up to her as confusion crosses her face. As I drop back down onto the couch, I hand it to her. “Do you recognize this?”

“What is it?”

“The note you left me in the hotel room.” I hand it to her and she holds it, but keeps it folded, shocked I still have it after all this time.

“You kept it?” Tinsley whispers.

I nod. “I did. I didn’t believe it, and I didn’t really even understand it at the time, but I needed tangible proof that the night, especially our kiss under the stars and then falling asleep with you in my arms, wasn’t a dream.”

She stares at the white folded paper as a lone tear drop slides down her cheeks and off her face, landing on the note, weakening the structure of the paper in just a matter of seconds that’s been protected in my safe for years. The blue ink she wrote in seeps through the paper onto the backside where the tear drop fell. Swiping away another tear, she looks up at me. “Now I don’t understand.”

I nod toward the note. “Read it for me, please.”

Now it’s her turn to rear back. “What? No, I wrote it. I don’t need to read it.”

I reach for her hand, pulling it to my mouth and kissing her palm softly. “Please, Red? I need you to read it to me. Trust me.”

“I don’t know what the goal is here, but … okay.” She swallows hard and a blush creeps up her face. I know she’s embarrassed by these words—and maybe her actions that night—but I can’t confront them until we face them together.

And it’s long fucking overdue that we confront them together.

“Dear Jack.” She glances up at me and I nod for her to go on. “I'm sorry I had to leave, especially like this. I never want you tainted by my darkness. You are too good, and I care about you too much. Please know you mean so much to me, and I think you're nothing short of incredible. You deserve the world.” She swipes a few tears at that and her voice is wavering, but she takes a breath before finishing it. “Please take care and I am so sorry. X-o-x-o, Tinsley.”

“Let’s tackle the lies one by one, okay?”