Take the Fall (Take the Fall, #1)(47)
But not Rowan. Jase was always adamant about her staying a kid for as long as possible. Maybe that’s the other reason I was allowed to date her. We were only a year apart in age while his other friends were three or more years older than her.
I push open the door to the small bedroom in the back. There’s a narrow bed on one side and a small, private bathroom on the other side. A desk faces two windows with a view of the yard out back. I can just make out the fountain that’s never been full of water, except when it rained.
I think this would have been the butler’s room back in the day. Or maybe the main housekeeper’s. Either way, it’s clean and comfortable.
Tossing my bag onto the bed, I roll my shoulders and my neck, trying to ease the tension. I double-check my phone, just in case Rowan came to her senses in the fifteen minutes I’ve been gone.
My messages remain the same. No such luck.
I sit on the bed and start to go through my stuff, looking for that extra shirt I packed. Instead I stab myself in the hand with the sharp edge of something.
“Damn,” I mutter, taking the object out. It’s a stack of envelopes tied together. Letters from Rowan. Letters I never read, but kept with me. There are dozens of them in varying widths. Carefully untying the string holding them together, I take the one from the top and open it.
Dear Seth,
Today your grandmother finally made me go to school. It sucked. I hated starting my senior year without you. Not that you would have been here with co since you’re a year older than me and have different obligations.
Anyway, the kids are asswipes. They don’t know you like I do. They don’t know you would never hurt anyone, only defend them. Except Piper—Piper Ross—if you have trouble remembering my best friend’s name. Okay, girl best friend. She sticks to me like glue. It’s…nice to have someone on my side.
English class is fun. We’re reading your favorite book, The Count of Monte Cristo. I cheated by watching the movie first. Hope you don’t get it in that stupid smart brain of yours to become all revenge driven when you get out. It didn’t work out too well for him. And it won’t for you, either.
I miss you so much. I love you, too. When you get out, maybe you’ll still have time for my senior prom?
Don’t worry about the other day. We all say things in the heat of the moment.
Your girl forever,
Rowan
I read each one, laughing at her insights and hurting when she starts to realize that I’ll never answer her.
Dear Seth,
Please tell me what to write to make you forgive me. I miss you.
Love,
Rowan
Dear Seth,
You’re being mean. Write back, *. I miss your face. It’s much better looking than the new guy in third period. He keeps asking me out, but I keep saying no.
Love,
Rowan
Dear Seth,
Obviously, your time in the slammer hasn’t toughened you up enough to read one girl’s letter to you without crying like a baby. But I’ll forgive you if you’ll call me. Jase gets to call….
Love,
Rowan
Dear Seth,
Today, I turned seventeen without you or my brother. Thanks a lot for the birthday present you never sent. Jase gets to email me, but I think you would ignore those, too, or claim you never got them, so I won’t bother trying to contact you that way.
Come on, Seth. Write me. You have to. When I blew out the candles, I made a wish that you would and birthday wishes have to come true, right?
Love,
Rowan
Dear Seth,
I finally had sex with another guy. Did that get your attention? Actually, I didn’t because I’m a loyal person and only want to be with you. But it’s hard being loyal to a guy who won’t even write you back or call.
I hate this new side of you.
Love,
Rowan
“Fuck,” I breathe. I should have read these letters a long time ago. I would have seen the inside of the heart of a sixteen-year-old girl who’d just lost everything. I couldn’t even be bothered to call her on her f*cking birthday.
For a long time, I stare at the letters. Then I start gathering them up. I know exactly what I need to do.
Chapter 16
Rowan
Bleary-eyed and half-awake from crying all night, I stare at Seth in complete shock. He’s standing on my front porch. There are dark circles under his eyes and he hasn’t shaved. This is not the look of a man who slept well. I’m torn between telling him to get the hell off my property and dragging him to my bed. I settle for interrogation.
“Why are you here? Haven’t you hurt me enough? Need to rub in how awesome living in Hawaii will be without me?” Way to be strong, Rowan.
Ignoring my questions, he holds up the letters. “Did you mean what you said in these?”
Everything. I meant everything. “You’re asking me this now, seven years later?”
He flushes. “I never read them before now.”
“What?” The pain at what he just admitted cuts through me. It’s like I’m reliving his rejection all over again.
“But I kept them. I took them to Afghanistan with me. They were my connection to home, to you. These letters and my tattoo, that’s all I had.”