It’s just me, Dix, Anton and Laura in the room one evening when I refresh my email for what feels like the thousandth time since we got here. My heart pounds with happiness and disbelief when I see that the message I’ve been hoping to get is in my inbox.

Dix is starting to drift off for the night. The rest of us are watching the news. I jump out of my chair and turn on the lights.

“Dix,” I say, trembling with excitement. “She wrote back. Eileen wrote you back.”

“Eileen?” Laura says, disbelief etched on her face.

Dix’s eyes are open. Whether he can hear me or understand me, I’m not sure. I just have to pray he can.

“I found her through her granddaughter on Facebook,” I tell Laura. “Dix had me write her an email a couple of weeks ago.”

Anton comes to my side, putting his palm on my back as I look into Dix’s eyes.

“Just listen, okay? Eileen wrote you a message, and it doesn’t say, ‘fuck off, asshole,’ like you thought it would.”

I take a deep breath and read it.

“Dear Jerry,

I can’t tell you how happy I was to hear from you. Even after all of these years, I think of you. I’m sorry it took me so long to respond. I was traveling in Europe with my daughter and two of my granddaughters. We went to Iceland two years ago and I thought of you so much since we dreamed of going there for our belated honeymoon.

I have nine grandchildren now; can you believe that? Even as they reach adulthood, they are the light of my life. My husband passed on four years ago, and the grandkids soothed my sadness like nothing else could have.

Your apology was not needed but was appreciated. I know more now than I did then, and there’s nothing to forgive. You are one of many men who came back from war deeply affected. Even when our marriage was crumbling, I never doubted that you loved me. And I loved you, Jerry. In some ways I still think of you as the love of my life.

I’m thrilled to hear you’re living in Chicago with your nephew. One of my granddaughters lives in Naperville. I live with my son in Boston now, but I’m overdue for a visit to see Vanessa and her family in Naperville. When I come, can we meet up for lunch? I’d love to catch up with you more.

With love,

Eileen”

I can’t help it—I’m weeping by the end. And from the way Anton’s clearing his throat, I think the letter got to him, too.

I lean over Dix and cover his hand with mine.

“Did you hear that?” I ask, looking into his eyes. “She wants to see you.”

He’d never want Eileen to see him this way; I know that. Catching up over lunch will never happen. But still, I know how much this message means to him. He asked me every day for the first week if I’d gotten a response, and then he gave up, assuming she’d gotten the message and didn’t want to write back.

I wipe my hand over my cheek and take a tissue from Anton to blow my nose. Laura is standing on the other side of Dix’s bed now, and she whispers, “Mia, look.”

I focus on Dix’s face and see that tears have fallen from his eyes, leaving trails of wetness. I well up all over again.

He heard me. He knows Eileen doesn’t hate him, and that he’s the love of her life.

I think this is as close as he’ll get to a happy ending.Chapter Twenty-FourAntonDix’s funeral service is a small, somber gathering at a local church. It’s mostly friends of the family and Anton’s teammates in attendance. I wasn’t sure about standing next to him in the receiving line at the visitation. It seemed like such an intimate, formal acknowledgement of our relationship.

I’m crazy about Anton and I love that he’s proud of our relationship. But I was already an emotional mess over Dix being inside a casket just a few feet away; I didn’t know if I could also face the stares and whispers we’d inevitably get from the other Blaze players.

Lily West, the wife of defenseman Jonah West, doesn’t even whisper. She hugs Anton, then me, and then holds both of my hands in hers.

“Mia, Jonah and I are so happy for you and Anton,” she says warmly. “I hope you’ll come sit with me at games when the season opens.”

I’m stunned—unable to speak past the lump in my throat for a few seconds. Lily was always nice to me when I was with Adam. She’s kind of the queen of the Blaze wives and girlfriends. Her acceptance of me means a lot.

“Thanks,” I say, squeezing her hands back. “I’d really like that.”

I hear another female voice in the line. “I’d really like if she stayed the fuck away from my husband. He’s not gonna be third in line.”

Tags: Brenda Rothert Chicago Blaze Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net