Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 95421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“I’ve met someone, Bailey. And I’m terrified I’m going to fuck that up, too, like I did all the other relationships I’ve had in my life. But for once, the thought of losing her terrifies me more than the thought of getting close to someone again.
“You were always worried about how I was going to deal with things once you were gone. You knew I might keep things bottled up too tight.” I scoffed. “Turns out you had good reason for that. But I want to change. I want to find peace, and I want to find it with Naomi. So today, not only have I come to give you a long-overdue apology, but I’ve also come to tell you what a big influence you still are in my life.” I lifted the last envelope in my hand and looked down at it. “I’m going to have to work my way up to talking about my feelings, but I figured this would be a good start. I’m opening myself up to someone—through a letter, like the ones you made me write every year.”
I put the letter addressed to Naomi Heart back in my pocket for safekeeping. I planned to stop at the post office on the way home and mail it. She’d probably think it was strange, considering we spent all day and a few nights a week together. But I wasn’t taking any chances. I wanted to give Naomi everything I had.
I sat with my back to Bailey’s headstone for a long time, remembering the good times we’d had over the years. Eventually, it was time to go. I stood and wiped dirt from my pants.
“I hope you can forgive me. I will never forget you, even if I manage to stop beating myself up over how things ended. Goodbye, Bailey. I really did love you.”
Epilogue
* * *
NAOMI
3 years later
“What the hell are you wearing?” I tossed my keys on the kitchen counter and laughed, getting a look at Dawson’s outfit. “You look ridiculous.”
Dawson lifted his bright green pant leg to reveal even more color, bright yellow socks. He also had on a royal blue shirt and a red tie. “What? You don’t like it?”
“Why are you dressed like that?”
“Because I couldn’t decide on the appropriate color for good luck. I put on this shirt because one website said blue promotes positive energy. But then another one said green means optimism and a fresh start. The yellow socks are for happiness and positivity.”
“What about the red tie?”
“Oh, that’s not for luck. The last website I checked said it’s the color of eroticism.” He winked. “I’m hoping our celebration goes that direction.”
“But what are we celebrating? Wait. Did the judge rule in your favor on the Peterson appeal?”
Dawson reached over to a pile of mail and held up an envelope. We’d finally moved in together last year. “Nope. This envelope came from the Virginia Office of Professional Responsibility.”
My eyes grew wide. “The decision on the appeal to get my law license back is here already? I thought they said it would be eight weeks. It’s only been five.”
“Maybe I’m such a great lawyer they didn’t have to think about it much.”
“Or…maybe they didn’t have to spend much time thinking about it because there is no way in hell they’re letting me practice law again.”
“Uh, excuse me.” Dawson gestured to his outfit. “That does not sound like the positivity I’m putting out into the universe for you.”
I couldn’t believe the decision was here so soon. Part of me still couldn’t believe I’d even let Dawson file the appeal. But it was pretty hard to say no when he’d surprised me with a thirty-page document he’d already written, complete with compelling case law to support reinstatement, and a dozen letters he’d secretly had my former and current colleagues write to attest to my good character and fitness. He’d even had the doctors and nurses who cared for Lizzie at her assisted-living facility write glowing letters.
Dawson stepped forward and slipped the envelope into my hands. “Open it.”
“What if they say no?”
“Then you’ll continue to work for me, and I’ll keep pretending I’m as smart as you make me look when you do all the legwork and writeups for my cases.” He smiled. “On second thought, I shouldn’t have done such a great job on my oral argument when we went down to Virginia last month. I’m fucked when you get back in.”
I smiled, deciding the letter could wait another minute, and wrapped my arms around my boyfriend’s neck. “Whatever the outcome is, I want you to know I think you did a great job and appreciate everything you put into this. Three years ago, I never could’ve imagined I would be truly happy working as a paralegal instead of a lawyer. But you make me feel appreciated and heard and treat me like an equal.”