Page 124 of Sweet Redemption

“Yeah, baby.” He lifts his mask and kisses my head. “I got it.”

Thankfully, Dad had my car brought to the hospital, so five hours later, when the doctor cleared an incredibly pissed-off Hendrix to go home, I was able to drive us back to his house.

“Are you going to be okay seeing Mel?” Hendrix asked me as we get out of the car in his driveway. His voice was hoarse and his arms scratched, but that was the worst of it. And as long as I had him, I’d deal with the rest.

But now, as I sit at the kitchen table across from Melissa while Hendrix is upstairs showering, I realize it’s not going to be that easy.

“I owe you an apology, Serena. I shouldn’t have said what I did, and I hope one day you’ll forgive me. I loved my girl, and every morning when I have to wake up and realize she’s not here, it breaks my heart all over again. Seeing you here, knowing you’re getting to fall in love with her husband and her son—it hurt. But not because you’re a bad person. I actually think in some ways it hurt more when I realized you’re not.” She wipes tears from her glassy eyes and looks away. “Because you get to live the life she can’t.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, meaning it. “I am so sorry she’s not here. But I’ll never be sorry for loving Hendrix. And I’ll never try to replace her in Bodhi’s heart.”

“But here’s the thing. She wants you there,” a distinctly deep, raspy voice says from somewhere behind me.

“I’m going to go check on Bodhi,” Melissa says as she stands, staring at Hendrix over my shoulder before her eyes come back to me. “I mean it, Serena. I am so sorry for the way I reacted. And I do hope you’ll give me a chance to make it up to you. I’m not a bad person. Just a grieving mother.” Her smile is small and sad as she picks up her mug and walks away.

“Come with me?” he asks and holds his hand out for me.

I lay my hand in his. “Anywhere.”

We walk outside and down to his dock where he sits down on one of the Adirondak chairs and tugs me down onto his lap. “You know, in so many ways, living on this street drives me crazy. We’ll never get any privacy with my sisters next door and my brothers so close. But our kids also get to grow up right here with their cousins and the lake as their playground.”

“Our kids?” I ask as I pull my legs up and tuck them alongside him. “Am I moving in with you?”

“You will.”

He’s right. I will.

But for now, I gently brush my lips over his, needing to feel his warmth.

“Okay, so this is where you want to raise a family? We skipped over the whole six kids you mentioned wanting last night.” God, it feels like so long ago already. “Is that number up for negotiation?”

“Whatever you want is up for negotiation, Serena. I just want you to know, when I think about it . . . being here, surrounded by family, in this town I never wanted to come back to—as long as you’re with me, I think I’ve made peace with all of it.”

“You do say the sweetest things, Superman.” I stuff my cold hands in the front pocket of the hoodie he threw on and pull out a card. “What’s this?”

I flip it over and see my name printed in child-like script.

“That’s yours,” he says simply, like that’s all the answer I get.

“So should I open it?” I ask, intrigued, but when he looks out over the lake instead of at me, intrigue changes to concern. “Hendrix . . .?”

“You should. But I don’t have to stay. That’s up to you.” His hand finds my face like it always does. “Britt left me letters. She left a few for Bodhi too.” My heart sinks when I think I know where this is going. “She also left one for her mom and one for you.” He nods toward my hand. “That one is yours. I can leave you alone if you want.”

“You want me to read it today?” I ask, not sure how much more I can take today. “I’m not sure I have the emotional bandwidth for this,” I admit.

“Life’s short, Serena. We don’t know if Delaney is going to wake up, and all I kept thinking about as Ryker begged her to live was you. I survived losing Britt. I wouldn’t survive losing you. Not again. And I want to live every single day remembering that. Thankful for the day and for the people in it.” His thumb traces my cheek. “Thankful for you. You don’t have to read it. But I think you should.”

“Stay with me?” I ask, wanting him here with me.

“Always, baby.”

I run a finger along the edge of the white and blue envelope and pull out the heavy paper.

Serena,

You’re my last letter.

I’ve written so many, I’m not sure I have that much left to say. There are only so many ways to say goodbye before the words start to feel too small for the people you’re leaving behind. But for you, I needed to find more.