Better Things ✓

Chapter 42: the letter

I sat down with a mug of steaming coffee in one hand. My other held the book my father had wrote for me.

I was in a huge sweatshirt of Xavier's that I had stolen from him. It went down to my knees and was very comfy.

The apartment was quiet, peaceful. Xavier was out with Jacob at some sporty thing. He should be back in an hour or so. For now, it was just me. I was going to sit here and try to get through this letter.

The leather cover felt foreign yet familiar to my fingertips. I traced the marks on it, trying to imagine my fathers hands where mine laid now.

The pages looked worn and discolored around the edges, like it had a story to tell within its own pages. The core of each page was perfect. It looked like it had been kept from any damage since the day it was written.

The words were in pen. Cursive writing that looked exquisite. Beautiful.

It was the epitome of timeless. The vintage atmosphere it gave off only added to the beautiful and enriched the love it gave me.

I blew a puff of breath in the middle of my steamy mug, creating a ripple that dispersed almost immediately. Taking a sip, I opened to the first page and began.

••••••••••••

'My sweet girl,

You, Delaney Taylor, are my life. You're the first thought that comes to mind when I wake up, no matter if it's in a small ditch, dodging bullets, or in the room right beside you. I go to sleep praying that you'll be safe and have a good life.

I pray that I get to watch you walk up the steps wearing your cap and gown. Walk you down the isle to the man of your dreams. Hold my little grand babies in my arms and watch you raise them.

But, sense you have to read this letter, I guess that's not how it happened. I'm so sorry that I couldn't be there for you.

Couldn't be your shoulder to cry on and wipe your tears. To help you stand back up when you're down.

I know you can do anything you set your mind to. I've seen the way you light up anyone's darkest hours. Your smile in itself is enough to make a whole crowd cheer.

I remember your giggles, your toothy little smile. Your chubby little baby fingers.

You're about eighteen now. So probably no more chubby baby fingers.

I know that you have become everything I've imagined. You're strong and smart and beautiful. Brave. Confident. Embrace everything I know you have inside of you.

I'll always be with you. Drying every tear and holding out my hand to help you off the ground. I'll be there when you think you can't do it anymore. Listen for my whispers in the quietest places. Know that you're never alone.

Marry a guy who makes you happy-truly happy. Make sure he treats my babygirl right. Gives you a good life. Don't let anyone tell you that you can't do something. Prove them wrong.

Raise your kids the way I know you can. To be kind, but strong. Loving but stern.

Never be afraid to be yourself, that's your strongest superpower. You're a gorgeous flower–a peony. You need to soak up the rainstorms of life and use them to grow–blossom. Blossom and show the world your beauty.

I remember when you used to run around with Mikey and the other men in my unit. They would chase you while you ran across the field giggling. It was like magic–watching all these men who were usually stern and gloomy, light up with smiles and booming laughs.

You have this pure magic in your touch, your smile. You radiate kindness and spread it to everyone you meet. Use your kindness to help others, the way I know you can. Give them your kindness–your love.

Spread that love. Any embrace it in yourself.

Love,

Daddy'

••••••••••••

My eyes burnt with moisture seeping from them. I folded my arms onto the thin table, pushing my empty coffee off to the side.

I sat my head down onto my arms, willing the world away.

I let it out. The damn burst, my sobs breaking through like a burst of rushing water.

I was heaving for breath by the end, willing my lungs to fill with air. To relieve the pressure built up in my chest.

"Delaney I'm home–woah what's wrong baby? What happened? Talk to me, sweetheart." He gently pried my head away from my arms. Taking in my tear stained, red face, covered in blotches of wetness.

"Hey, shhh. It's okay, you're okay. Shhh," he cooed gently, taking me into him. He picked up my head and moved it to his shoulder. He rubbed his hand in the back of my head, lightly massaging.

Once I was calm, he pulled away from me, holding me by my shoulders to look at me.

"What's wrong, babygirl?"

I tried to answer but ended up hiccuping. Instead, I grabbed the book and gently pushed it into his hands, keeping my eyes trained on his.

He looked down at it like it was a puzzle–probably trying to figure out why it made me cry on the kitchen table.

"My dad, he left this for me. The lawyer gave it to me. Along with a house and three million dollars," I spoke quickly, watching his face shift from concern to shock quickly.

"Three million dollars?" He asked quietly.

"Mhmm," I confirmed with a nod.

"Well what did he write you?"

"A letter. He said that he was always with me. That he wished he could be here with me and he wants me to be happy." I spoke hesitantly, not wanting to start crying again. I was already exhausted from before.

"Oh, sweetheart," he breathed out, hugging me again.

"We should go check out the house soon. It's on the base. I don't remember much of it, but I remember it being big."

"Yeah, we need to get things planned out," he responded.

I rested my head against his chest, breathing in his familiar colon.

I felt Milo rub his head against my hand, so I started petting him. With both my boys around me, I felt a lot better.

They always eased the weight on my heart.