Page 116 of Nineteen Letters

“Yes. About twenty times a day,” I reply, trying my hardest to keep a straight face.

“We didnot,” she squeaks, nudging me with her shoulder, causing me to bark out another laugh.

“Okay, maybe twenty is a slight exaggeration.”

“A slight exaggeration. I doubt I’d be able to walk if I had sex that much every day, let alone be able to function throughout theday … or hold down a job. I would have been permanently on my back.”

“When we were younger, we went at it like rabbits.”

“Oh my god, Braxton,” she murmurs, covering her face with her hands. “Stop it!”

It’s times like this that I notice the real change in her. We had a very open relationship, and the old Jem knew she could talk to me about anything.

“It’s the truth, we did,” I say. “We waited for months before we took the plunge, but once we crossed that line, there was no stopping us. Every chance we got, it’s what we did. We couldn’t get enough of each other.”

That’s the way it stayed, right up to the accident.

“Did I … umm … enjoy it?” she asks as her embarrassment grows.

“Of course. I’m an exceptional lover.”

“Of course you are,” she says, giggling.

“You always found me irresistible. You couldn’t keep your hands off this fine specimen of a man.” I run my flattened palm from my chest and down to my abs as I speak.

With that statement, she completely loses it, and seconds later, I do as well. When she wipes tears from her eyes, it only makes me laugh more.

This is the old us, the way we’ve always been—fun, easygoing, completely ridiculous. Down for a good laugh.

It’s the perfect end to a perfect day.

Chapter 32

Jemma

It was late when Braxton dropped me off last night, so I told him I wouldn’t make our breakfast date this morning. I’m now regretting that decision; I had such an amazing time with him yesterday, and I desperately want to see him again.

When I don’t find my mum in the kitchen, I go in search of her. It’s not lost on me that I now think of her as my mother and no longer Christine.

I’m surprised to find her curled up on the sofa with a box of tissues beside her. My first thought is that she is sick, but then I notice Ma’s diary in her hand. It brings an instant smile to my face.

This is progress and I love this for her. She’s been stuck in the past for way too long.

“Morning,” I say as I walk into the room and sit down beside her.

Instinctively, I snuggle into her side. It doesn’t feel weird or forced, it feels like a natural thing a mother and daughter would do.

“Morning, sweetheart,” she replies, placing a soft kiss on the side of my head.

“You’re reading Ma’s diary?”

“I am. I’m so grateful you encouraged me to do this. I’m learning so much about my parents. It’s helping …” She pauses briefly before finishing her sentence. “It’s helping me forget the terrible memories and focus more on the good ones.”

“I’m glad. I’m sorry for what you had to go through, but Ma wouldn’t want you to remember her in that way. She loved Pa and just wanted to be with him. I can understand that.”

“You’re right. They loved each other very much.”

I slide my arm through hers, resting my head on her shoulder. “Just like you and Dad once did … and me and Braxton.”