In to Her

Oh, I’ve missed this so much. It made me sad for a few days after Lucas was born because I thought of Bonnie and how much I missed her and Chris. I had a little postpartum depression but I’m getting better now.

Writing you about this now feels good. I should’ve done it sooner. I’m sorry you had to wait to hear all the big news. It was just… hard not having you here.

I try not to think about my old life but that makes me sad too. Because you’re a part of that old life. And Chris and Bonnie and my baby boy.

And I feel so guilty for living on sometimes. So fucking guilty.

Writing you used to make me so happy every time, and so hopeful, but I’m not so sure it does that anymore. AJ thinks I should stop pretending. You’re not coming. He thinks I should face that fact.

But I can’t give up hope. He doesn’t want to either, he just worries about me. He worries that I will get depressed again and not be able to pull myself out of it. He thinks about that pill bottle. Sometimes I look at those pictures of us you left. And I relive that one day we spent with you.

One day.

How can one day feel like forever? How can I miss you so much? Love you so much? After knowing you only one day?

I don’t know. I don’t understand it. I just know we still feel that way about you and we still want you. And if you come here, Logan, we will bring you into our family. We promise. We will.

We will never forget you, or what you did, or that you’re Lucas’s real father.

You will always have a place in our hearts.

We love you.

Yvette and AJ

Chapter Forty-Two – AJ

Dear Logan,

This is a hard letter to write but I feel like it’s time. It’s been three and a half years, dude. Such a short time in the grand scheme of things, I know. But it feels so long since you were with us. You feel so far away.

Yvette had our second baby. I made her stop writing you when we found out she was pregnant again, so… sorry you didn’t know that until now.

Gabriella. A little girl this time. My blue eyes and Yvette’s very blonde hair.

Rosie’s daughter—remember Rosie? The drugstore cashier?—well, her daughter Yalesia helps us out now. So Yvette isn’t overwhelmed. She’s doing great actually. Didn’t get depressed after giving birth and I hate to say this, but I think it’s because I’ve kept her from you.

We still have your picture up on the wall in the kitchen and Lucas, oh, man, dude. You’re really missing out. This little boy is so you. So rowdy, but sweet. So rough, but gentle. But Lucas walks by your picture every day and says, “Hi, Daddy.” Except he mostly says it in Spanish.

He loves the ocean. We spend a lot of time on the beach just hanging out.

I started a little kayak business taking people on tours of the mangroves and in the summer we have a bioluminescence tour at night. Lucas loves to see the plankton glow at night. He’s something, man. Really something.

And I know you’re probably thinking he doesn’t need you. He has me, and that’s enough. But Logan, dude. We still need you. So please, get your shit together and come back to us.

Because I can’t write these letters anymore. It hurts and I just don’t think you’re coming. I know you’re alive because we heard through various sources that you’ve been sending the Nightingale people money for Yvette’s son. We finally made contact with them about two years ago. Yvette needed to know everything was OK. And it was. Still is.

So we know you’re alive… just… what are you doing? Why aren’t you here?

Did you forget about us?

I figured you had shit to take care of. I get that, I do. You risked everything. You sacrificed your own happiness to save us. But it’s time, man. It’s time to save yourself.

Did you fall out of love with us? Or find someone new?

It’s cool, if you did. We’d be heartbroken, but we’d be able to move on if you just told us to stop waiting.

I’m not gonna lie, I want to give up. I want to stop hoping. Because I don’t think you’re coming.

But I can’t. I can’t just forget about you. Who you are to me, what you mean to me, what you did for me.

I can’t ever forget how you gave us everything and kept nothing for yourself.

So I won’t.

I refuse to give up on you.

I will wait for as long as it takes. I will wait. But we’re not going to write any more letters in this book.

So… goodbye, I guess. For now. Maybe forever. But I hope not. I really hope it’s not forever.