41. Chapter Forty-One
Ituck the latest letter under my leg before tipping my face to the sun. My dad tosses a rope over a tree branch, tugging on it.
“I’ve always wanted a tree swing,” I tell him.
He smiles at me over his shoulder. “I’ve learned a lot about you from your letters to Tank.”
We’ve been writing back and forth for several weeks. It’s been wonderful. It reminded me of how everyone wrote to me before I came here. I felt like I knew them before I arrived. Unfortunately, I didn’t share much about myself when I wrote back to them.
I lie in the grass and stare at the leaves blowing in the wind above me. “That was the point.”
He stops what he’s doing.
“The letters are for you … not him.”
I stare at the clouds, holding my breath as he lies on the ground beside me. His hands fold behind his head.
“I’m … I’m scared. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Love hurts, Kelsie.”
My breath comes out in a whoosh. Finally. Now we’re getting somewhere.
I’m silent as I ponder his admission. It’s one thing I’ve learned from him. Think before you speak.
“Tank would never hurt me intentionally.” I roll to my side to look at my dad. “But I understand it’s inevitable he will. I also know you’ll be there to talk me through it.”
He runs his hand over his face.
“It’s human to hurt those you love, but I have faith he’ll try to make it right when he does.” I roll onto my back. “So, I think I’ll let you try the swing first.”
He laughs. “Don’t trust my knots?”
“No, I do. I just don’t trust that branch.”