39. Indiana
B eep.
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“I think it’s time,” I say into my phone.
“You’ll be happy to know that I won’t be doing it alone from now on.
” I breathe out a sigh. “I called Mom and Dad. They’re coming to visit me next month, annnnd you won’t believe this, but Knox—the man from the bar who stood me up .
And before you start, he had a good reason.
Actually, he had the only reason that I could forgive.
He has a daughter. She’s beautiful and funny and she likes me.
She likes playing with me. She’s curious and?—”
I choke a little but manage to swallow it down. “She reminds me of you. Knox even calls her dragonfly. He has a tattoo on his thigh of one that looks like the one I got for you. So hot, right?” I choke a little on my laugh.
I pause. Knowing this next part will be the hardest. It’s another goodbye. One I’ve been prolonging, but one that feels inevitable.
“I don’t know if you hear the things I say, Han.
I guess I just hope that you do. Believing that somewhere out there, my words make it to you helps me.
I hope you’re at peace, or I hope you’re giving someone hell, whatever it is that you want.
I miss you. I miss having you here. There isn’t and there won’t be a day that goes by that I don’t wonder what you would do or say or tell me.
I’ve been telling Hazel stories about us as kids, and one day, when I have more kids, I’ll tell them all about you.
God, you would have been the best aunt.” I break a little, allowing the sob that’s built in my chest out.
“All this to say, I’m going to be okay. This place is good for me.
The people here are good for me. I love you. I miss you. Bye, Dragonfly.”