Theo rubs my hair, wiping at my tears, pulling me in second by second. Soon, I hear Brenda enter the room, and he helps sits me up. “Take a sip for me.”
Nodding, I want to oblige, because the screaming hurt my throat, and I could use something to soothe it. I take small sips, a few at a time, then Theo takes it and hands it to Brenda. I wipe at my eyes, clearing the tears from them as best as I can.
“You here with us?” Theo finally speaks, and my breathing starts to settle, evening out a bit. I nod. “Good. I’m sorry, Hanna. I read the last letter.” I look to him, then Brenda, and back to my hands.
“How could they lie to me? Hurt not only me but my grandfather?”
“People are cruel, baby. This is why you have to let go and let people find their own way.”
My eyes shoot to him. “If I stopped giving a shit about people, that would make me like my parents. I want to be nothing like them, the complete opposite.” My statement isn’t rude; it’s honest.
“I know, but you also let yourself be the punching bag for so much pain. You need to set that free, or it’s going to hurt you more, babe,” Brenda says, dropping to her knees in front of me at the edge of the bed. Placing her hands on mine, she rubs her thumb softly over mine.
“I see him. Reading that letter. I feel it almost. Like I can feel his pain,” I choke out, moving my hand to my chest where my heart pounds, and I claw at it, as if it will dull out the ache.
“Then to sit here in his home, knowing he forgave me, loved me enough to leave me everything I needed…I want to be him. Like that. The type who forgives. Because right now, I hate my parents. I wish I could find them and tell them I hate them. Tell them what pain and misery they caused me. The havoc and mess they left in my life.” Tears fall. “But then I think of him. How he never once stopped loving me. And I bet those letters would show that he never stopped loving my mother.”
Theo runs circles on my back with the softest touch. “What do you think he felt like? Dying without knowing the truth? With thinking I hated him?”
“I will tell you this. You grandfather never hated anyone. He was the first to help and the first to forgive. See the best in people. He had to know that one day you would learn the truth, and he had to know you would find the letters when he left you everything,” Brenda tells me.
I smile a bit, hearing her sing his high praise, but it dies out fast. “But he didn’t know the truth. He was buried with lies and secrets. I hate lies, and I hate secrets.”
Theo stiffens next to me, and I look to him. His eyes are on the wall adjacent to the bed. His jaw tics and tightens. “What’s wrong, Theo?” I ask.
“Nothing. Just keep talking. Open up to us.” He must be trying to hide his anger the best he can.
“I really have nothing more to say. My parents have become even bigger assholes than I ever thought. I never got to meet the man who could have shown me love and drastically changed my life. And now I have what I needed to know. He didn’t refuse to find me; he just respected ‘my’ wishes.” I air quote.
“What can we do to help you? We want to be here for you. Tell us what you need,” Brenda prompts.
I think about this, hard, taking a long pause and wracking my brain. Theo looks so upset next to me, and suddenly I remember what he said on the porch, how he needs me to need him, and right now, I need that too. I need him to make me forget for a moment. Make this all fade to the back for a little bit.
“I need you,” I whisper to him
That’s all he needs to hear. I do what I told him I would when I need him most, and it works.
“Sis, you need to go. I will call you later.” He doesn’t look at her; instead, his eyes stay on me. I finally break eye contact with great effort and look to Brenda.
“You sure?” she asks, her brows drawn in.
“Yes, I’m sure. I promise. Thank you. I will call you when the dust settles, okay?” I stand, but Theo keeps a physical touch at all times, his hand on my hip, tethering me to him. The pang in my chest alerts me then, the same thing that’s happened every time he shows a sign of need for me outside the bedroom. When he gives me small glimpses into him and what he needs, that’s when I get that feeling I know I shouldn’t. But I bury it down. My heart is broken over the letters, and that’s all I need to focus on at the moment.