Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
T he house was quiet.
Not the comfortable kind of quiet, but the weighty, suffocating kind that made every breath feel like too much effort. The kind of quiet that let grief seep into every corner, wrapping around her like a ghost she couldn’t shake.
Haley lay in Ian’s arms, her head resting against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. It was the only thing grounding her, the only proof that time hadn’t stopped completely. His fingers traced slow, absent-minded patterns along her spine, a silent promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.
She thought she’d be too exhausted to think. Too emotionally drained to feel anything but numb.
But then she remembered.
The letter.
Her breath hitched as her fingers tightened around Ian’s T-shirt.
“Haley?” His voice was low, sleep-roughened, but immediately laced with concern. “What is it?”
She swallowed, her throat tight. “The letter. From my dad.”
Ian stilled beneath her. Then, without hesitation, he shifted, reaching toward the nightstand where she had placed the envelope after the funeral. He handed it to her without a word, his eyes searching hers.
“You want to read it now?” he asked gently.
Haley nodded, though her fingers trembled as she took the envelope. She exhaled slowly and broke the seal, unfolding the neatly written pages. The handwriting wasn’t familiar, but once she started reading the words, her dad’s voice came through loud and clear.
Her hands tightened around the paper as she began to read.
Haley,
I know you’re hurting right now, Bug, and if I could take that pain from you, I would. Grief is just proof of how much we love someone. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but one day, the pain won’t be as sharp as it is right now. My dad always said that grief doesn’t get any easier, just more familiar. Someday you will look at all those memories we’ve shared and smile. And trust me, kid, we made some damn good ones.
As for goodbyes, I’m grateful we had that time together in the hospital and that you brought your young man. That boy loves you, Haley. I saw it in his eyes long before he even realized it himself. But when he came to me, sitting in that uncomfortable chair beside my hospital bed, looking nervous as hell and asking for your hand, I knew without a doubt that he was the right man for you.
He told me he didn’t want to wait, that he couldn’t stand the thought of me not being there. Said he wanted to do it at the hospital if he had to—just so I could walk you down the aisle. That truly meant the world to me, Bug. That’s the kind of man I want taking care of my baby girl.
But, Haley, I don’t need to walk you down the aisle.
Because I plan on walking with you every step of the way for the rest of your life.
I’ll be there when you stand at the altar. I’ll be there when you share your first dance, and those brothers of his tell everybody what terrors the two of you were growing up. I’ll be there when you cut into your wedding cake, and throw your bouquet. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.
I’ll be there when you and Ian welcome your first child into this world—when you hold that tiny miracle in your arms and finally understand the depth of love I’ve always had for you. I’ll be there for every scraped knee, every late-night cry, every moment you feel like you can’t do it—because, sweetheart, you can. And you will. And I’ll be so damn proud of you.
I’ll be there during the good times—the belly laughs, the midnight kitchen dances, the quiet moments of love so strong it takes your breath away. And I’ll be there during the bad times, too. When life throws you curveballs, when things feel impossible, when you miss me so much you can hardly breathe—I’ll be there, Haley. Right beside you, always.
You were the best thing that ever happened to me. From the moment I held you in my arms, I knew my purpose in this world was to love you, to guide you, and to make sure you knew how incredible you are. And now, I need you to do something for me.
Live.
Love Ian with your whole heart. Laugh loudly. Take risks. Make mistakes and learn from them. Be stubborn and kind and brave, just like you’ve always been. And when you need me, just close your eyes, sweetheart. I’ll be there.
I love you, my sweet girl. Always.
Dad.
By the time she finished reading, tears streamed down her face, landing in silent splashes against the letter. Her chest ached, her breath coming in uneven gasps.
Ian didn’t speak. He didn’t try to tell her it would be okay, didn’t offer hollow reassurances. Instead, he took the letter from her shaking hands, set it carefully on the nightstand, and pulled her into his arms.
Haley sobbed against his chest, gripping his shirt like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. And maybe it was.
Minutes passed, or maybe hours—time didn’t matter. Ian held her through it all, his hands running up and down her back, his lips pressing soft kisses into her hair. He didn’t rush her grief. He let her feel it, let her break apart in the safety of his arms.
Eventually, the sobs slowed, her breathing evening out into hiccupping gasps. She pulled back slightly, her red-rimmed eyes meeting Ian’s.
“You asked him to marry me?” she whispered, her voice raw.
Ian nodded, his fingers gently brushing a tear from her cheek. “Yeah. I wanted him there, Hales. I wanted him to see us get married, to be part of it.” He swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry he couldn’t be.”
Haley shook her head, a sad, watery smile tugging at her lips. “He will be.” She placed a hand over her heart, her father’s words echoing in her mind. “He’ll be with us—he promised. Every step of the way.”
Ian pressed his forehead to hers, his hands cradling her face like she was something precious. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
She let out a shaky laugh, her lips trembling. “Not even close.”
He kissed her softly, slowly, like a promise. “You are to me.”
Haley closed her eyes, leaning into him. The pain was still there, the grief still heavy. But wrapped in Ian’s arms, she knew—somehow, someway—she was going to be okay.