Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Dear Ethan,
By now you’re probably madly in love. I sincerely hope you are. If you’re not, give it time.
I’ve watched you and Hattie over the years. I know how good the two of you could be together if you only gave it a chance. If you only moved past everything that happened when you were young.
I knew it. I fucking knew he was setting me up for another guilt trip.
My hands shake as I clench the letter, forcing myself to finish.
There’s a lot I never told you.
I made so many mistakes with your mother. She’s never been able to forgive them, and frankly, I don’t deserve it.
I see that now. I’ve made peace after a lifetime of denial.
But this isn’t about my past errors. You deserve to know why I’ve saddled you with a marriage neither of you asked for, and why I insisted on setting up this grand façade.
I know what it’s like to beat yourself up forever. I saw you trapped in that pit after Taylor. The grief, the responsibility you felt over her demise—even though it wasn’t your fault.
Now, don’t worry.
Your secret will follow me to the grave—it already has, if you’re reading this. However, I couldn’t let you stay in that abyss with no way to climb out.
Not without doing my utmost to drop you a ladder.
I knew I couldn’t fix this alone, Ethan.
But I knew someone who could.
Someone we trust. Someone tender. Someone who believes in adventures and secrets and second chances. Someone who cherishes love as much as long evenings stuck in a book.
In time, perhaps you’ll come to see what I did, if you haven’t already.
Open your eyes and look hard.
She can dispel your darkness. Margot already loves her like family.
She who can weather your stormiest attitude—she had plenty of practice every summer she spent with us.
Oh, hell.
My chest is imploding. I pinch the letter until the paper bends, so close to ripping, but I can’t bring myself to relax my hand.
Once, I refused to accept your father and my ego cost me dearly. Back then, I thought your mother could do better. But all that pain proved it was never money or prestige that matters in the end.
It’s having the right person to balance the scales, and your heart.
For Evie, her other half was always Scott.
I see that now.
For you, your half must be Harriet Sage. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life, and if you just give her a fair shake, I believe you’ll see it, too.
As Hattie knows, fairy tales are made, not told.
And if you can open your heart enough to pry clear your eyes, young man, you’ll see it too. Then you’ll hold on tight and keep her.
All my love,
Gramps
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I throw the letter down and spring back up, pacing the floor.
I am a self-propelled wreck.
If Margot was in the room, I know she’d agree with Gramps, but—
But goddammit, he’s right.
My last chance—my only chance—to unfuck my future was always Pages.
My light, my love, the one woman who slays problems with a sassy smile or pins me in place with another godawful joke.
Even when she’s just reading a book, my world glows brighter.
Hattie’s the only person who makes me feel alive since Taylor drove herself off that cliff.
Not because I ever loved Taylor, no, but because that was the last time I felt like I deserved to look forward to tomorrow.
With Hattie, I don’t have to hide.
She knows about Taylor’s accident and she didn’t go running.
She looked at me like she knew my hurt.
Like we shared the pain and fuck, my eyes are burning.
I can’t remember the last time I cried.
Not since Taylor. Not since everything went to shit.
Even when Gramps died, I didn’t break, even if I was damn close at times. Margot was the weepy mess, and I was the one who held her like a rock, smothering my own emotions.
I can’t anymore.
Hattie burns me alive, even if Gramps is the spark.
She undid every coping mechanism, knocked down years of fortified walls, and now I’m here, cursed with knowing how bad I derailed destiny.
I pace around unevenly, my furious red-eyed reflection in the window mocking me.
Why am I still here?
I told Hattie I wanted to fight, but that’s not what I’ve been doing.
Not when I’ve been screwing off, playing hideout while my legacy and my woman go up in smoke.
That isn’t fighting.
That’s giving up.
I haven’t completely forgiven Gramps for his lies by omission. And yes, the whole fake marriage scheme was a bridge too far just to set us up.
But fuck, he’s right about this.
I need to get my life back.
I need to get Hattie back.
Through the window, I see Margot making her way back to the house, the bottle in one hand and the leash in the other.
Her head is down. She looks as crushed as I’ve been feeling these past few days.