Page 97 of Nineteen Letters

These letters tell me so much about myself, but they also let me get to know Braxton. I’ve learned just as much about him from reading these—things I’m sure the old me didn’t even know.

Placing the letter down beside me, I search in the bottom of the envelope for my charm. I find a small piece of paper instead.

I didn’t have time to buy the charms to go with this letter, because I wrote it last night after dropping you off. I’ll give them to you when I see you tomorrow morning at breakfast. x

Chapter 28

Braxton

I’m pacing back and forth on the deck as I anxiously wait for a glimpse of Jemma. Christine told me she was still asleep when I dropped the letter off yesterday morning, but I can’t help but wonder. Was she sleeping? Or was she hiding in her room to avoid me? Did I overstep the mark by kissing her?

She said yes when I asked for permission, and she kissed me back, but still …

I run my hands through my hair as uncertainty clouds my mind. Things were never this difficult before. I always knew where I stood with her.

I went into a panic yesterday when I woke and saw it was almost nine. I thought I’d missed her … that she’d come for breakfast only to find me not there.

I couldn’t sleep after dropping her off the night before. After tossing and turning for a few hours, I eventually got up and wrote her another letter. It was some ungodly hour by the time I finally crawled back into bed and hugged her pillow, just like I’ve done every night since the accident. I’ve washed and changed the sheets numerous times since then, but not her pillowcase. It still smells of her. It’s the only thing that helps me sleep.

When I jumped out of bed yesterday, I threw on a T-shirt and a pair of sweats before walking the length of the beach with Bella-Rose. Jemma was nowhere to be seen. I ran back to the house and showered and changed in record time, before rushing to Christine’s.

That kiss… even today, it’s still in the forefront of my mind. She kissed me just like she used to. It’s been two days, and I’m still smiling about it.

I’m pulled from my thoughts when I hear someone speak. “Good morning.”

I swing around and relief washes over me when I see Jemma standing on the sand at the bottom of the steps.

She came.

“Morning.” I walk towards the edge of the deck. She’s not dressed in her running gear today. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to come.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it yesterday morning, I slept in.”

“Me too.”

I must remember to give her the charms before she leaves. I bought a boy and girl kissing, and a tiny umbrella to symbolise the rain. I even considered buying a torch charm as a joke, but that’s a moment I’m okay with her not remembering.

“Are you hungry?” I ask, reaching for her hand.

“Starved.”

I don’t know what to do. Do I kiss her? The morning after our very first kiss, there was no confusion about how to act, but things are different now. Back then I knew she was mine, but now I’m not so sure.

In that split second, I decide not to. Although I want to kiss her so badly I ache inside, I don’t want to push her. Our kiss the other night propelled our somewhat strained relationship to a whole other level, and I’m not about to do anything to jeopardise that.

I do, however, keep her hand clasped in mine as I lead her towards the table on the deck. “Sit,” I instruct, letting go of her hand and pulling her chair out. “I’ll make us a coffee.”

“Thank you,” she replies, smiling up at me.

We fall into easy conversation as we eat. She listens as I talk about my work, the small everyday things that make up my life. It’s just the type of easy breakfast chat we used to have.

“Speaking of work, I better clean up this mess so we can get going.”

I would much rather spend my day out here with her curled up on the bench seat like we used to do on weekends, but I force myself to stand and collect the dishes.

“Let me help you,” she says.

“You don’t have to.”