Chapter 28 THIS WAS GOODBYE
THIS WAS GOODBYE
HUNTER
Three days have passed.
Madison still sleeps.
Everything else moves, yet it feels wrong.
We’re all stuck on pause while the world keeps going without us.
We go through the motions on autopilot. Eat when we’re reminded.
Sleep when exhaustion wins. Breathe, because our bodies insist on it.
None of us is really living. We’re holding our breath.
Waiting. Checking our phones every few minutes for an update when we’re not sitting by her side.
Halle and Asher won’t look at me the same. After they walked in on me that first day, I came clean. Told them the truth. About the letters. Finding them. How I kept them hidden because I was scared.
Scared to hand them over. Scared of what they’d open up.
Scared they’d disrupt the peace we’ve been clinging to.
They listened to everything I had to say.
They didn’t yell. Halle didn’t say anything at all, and that somehow hurt worse than if she had.
No anger, no tears, just silence. Asher was the one who spoke.
Told me it wasn’t my decision to make. That those letters, addressed to Halle, were never mine to hold onto.
Then they walked out.
I’ve spent the last two days by Madison’s side, only leaving when Claire demanded I go look after myself. To eat something, sleep for a few hours, breathe somewhere that didn’t smell like disinfectant and fear.
Tessa and Jace have visited. Sarah and Connor stop in during the evenings, leaving Remi at home with Halle. Everyone takes turns. Everyone offers their strength.
Today, we’re supposed to be talking about next steps. About what happens after Madison wakes. Before any of that… I’m giving Halle her letters.
My stomach rolls as I bite down on my thumb, pacing the length of my couch. The stack of letters sits on the coffee table, like they haven’t been haunting me for months. I sigh, reaching for my phone.
Me: Hi baby girl. I miss you.
Me: I’m giving Halle her letters today. I wish you were here. Not for me, but for her.
Me: I know how much she’s struggling without you. I’m glad Asher’s here to hold her up.
Me: When I’m finished here, I’m coming back to you.
Me: Please wake up soon.
Tapping the phone against my palm, I start pacing again.
A sharp gasp tears from my throat when I spin.
“Shit, you scared me, Sarah.”
“I tried calling out to you,” she says with a shrug.
“Where’s Remi?” I ask, scanning the room.
Guilt pinches tight in my chest. I haven’t been very present with him this past week, and the last thing I want is to let the little man down.
“He’s with Connor down at the park. They’ll be back soon.” She smiles.
I glance at her, curiosity tugging at me.
“They’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, haven’t they?”
“Remi loves Ace, that’s all. Connor doesn’t seem to mind either.”
“Mhm,” I murmur, unconvinced.
Her gaze drifts to the coffee table. “Do you want me here when you give those to Halle?”
I shake my head. “No. Thank you, though.” I pause, searching for the right words. “For everything. I should have listened to you that first day we got back. I shouldn’t have put this off for this long.”
She steps closer. “Hey. What matters now is that you’re trying to make things right.”
The front door opens before I can answer, and Halle and Asher walk inside.
Halle’s smile is thin, fragile, as Sarah leans in to hug her. Asher gives me a brief nod, his attention immediately shifting back to Halle, watching her every move.
“I’ll be out back, if you guys need anything,” Sarah says.
I fidget with the hem of my shirt, the tension between us thickening by the second.
“Jesus Christ,” Asher mutters, dropping onto the couch. “You both pull at your shirts when you’re nervous.”
The air shifts at his words, the tension loosening.
Halle and I face each other. Her eyes shimmer, swimming with something that looks a lot like understanding.
“I’m sor—”
She cuts me off, crossing the room in two steps, and throws her arms around me, hugging me tight.
“I’m sorry.” I pull back, motioning for her to sit on the couch.
I take the seat beside her, angling myself so I’m facing both her and Asher. Leaning forward, I grab the letters.
“I should have given these to you the first day I came back,” I say.
“Yeah,” Halle agrees, taking them from my hands. “You probably should have.”
She stares down at them, tracing the edges, her finger following the curve of Mom’s handwriting.
“They’re all written by her?” she asks.
“They are. I swear I haven’t opened any of yours,” I say quickly, then hesitate.
“No more secrets, man,” Asher says, as I find my words.
“I didn’t want these to cause another spiral,” I admit. “I’m so scared of losing you, Halle, that somewhere in my stupid brain, it made more sense to keep them from you. I convinced myself I was protecting you.”
“I get it,” Halle says. “I’m not going to sit here and be mad at you.
Am I upset? Yeah. Am I a little scared… a little nervous about what might be written in these?
For sure.” She exhales. “But I made peace with Mom’s decision to leave us.
I’ve made peace with my trauma. Some days are harder than others, but I’m working through it.
” She looks at me. “Do you know what helps?”
I shake my head.
“Having everyone around me.” She smiles faintly. “Asher, who lets me word-vomit at him every day. Who holds me tight when I need it. The girls, who know when to step in without me even having to ask.” Her grip tightens on the letters. “Their support strengthens me.”
Her eyes soften. “And you. Hunter, you’re my big brother. Out of everyone here, you’ve been protecting me for the longest.” She nudges my shoulder. “But I’m older now, and I don’t need to be treated like a kid anymore. Okay?”
Letting out a breath, I dip my chin, pressing my lips together. My fingers curl into my thigh, fighting the instinct to pull her closer, to shield her the way I always have.
“Yeah, okay.”
Her face lights up, and I lift my hand before she can say anything. “I can’t promise the protectiveness will disappear overnight, but I promise I won’t hide things from you again.”
“Good.” She beams.
I tap the top of her letters. “I’ve been opening mine. They’ve been hard to read. Madi was helping me… before everything happened. Make sure you don’t do it alone.”
“I won’t.” She lets out a long breath, hugging the letters to her chest. “I don’t know if I’m even ready to open them. I might hold onto them for a little bit. If it gets too much, I’ll tell you. Hell, maybe one day, we could trade.”
The weight of these letters finally slips from my shoulders, relief washing over me as I smile at her.
A couple of hours later, we’re gathered in Madison’s room.
Halle stands by the window, Asher behind her with his arms locked around her shoulders.
Jace watches from the far corner, while Tessa lingers at the foot of the bed, her phone resting on the table beside her with Connor and Sarah on the line, after staying back at the house with Remi.
We agreed it was better this way. A new town, new faces, the last thing we want is to confuse or upset him when he’s transitioning so well.
My hands won’t stop shaking by my sides. I reach for Madison’s, taking the seat I’ve claimed as my own right next to her.
“Right, everyone here?” Claire asks, her gaze sweeping the room.
“Hi, Momma Claire. Sending you big hugs.” Connor’s voice carries through the phone.
The corner of her mouth twitches. “Connor,” she muses. “Hello.”
Claire steps closer to the bed, glancing at the clipboard hanging on the wall.
“I asked you all here this morning because we’re cautiously hopeful Madison may wake up tomorrow.”
My breath stalls.
“Now, waking up is a huge step on its own.” Her eyes move from face to face, making sure we’re listening. “But it doesn’t mean she’s out of the woods. There are still a lot of unknowns, and I want to prepare you all for what comes next.”
No one speaks. We all nod, one by one, clinging to every word she says, clinging to the hope floating through the air.
“The doctors will want to keep her here for at least a couple of weeks after she wakes. Head injuries take time heal, and her bruised lungs will need rest as well. They’ll be monitoring her closely for confusion, headaches, or any signs of memory loss—”
“What?” I blurt. “Memory loss?”
“Yes, sweetheart. There’s a possibility. I hope there isn’t, but we won’t know until she wakes.”
A choppy breath leaves me, the room tilting enough to make me grab the side of the bed.
“Hey, Hunter,” Sarah’s voice comes through the phone.
“Y-yeah?”
“Deep breaths.”
I try. Fail. Try again. My breath turns shallow.
Jace’s hand lands on my shoulder, firm and grounding, the squeeze reeling me back in.
“What happens if she wakes up not remembering us?” I ask.
“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.” Claire’s eyes hold mine, unflinching. “Right now, we’re not going to worry about the what-ifs. We’re going to plan for what happens when it’s time for her to go home.”
She lifts her hand, ticking it off on her fingers. “She won’t be able to drive for quite some time. Months, even. She might experience extreme fatigue. Emotional swings.”
Her gaze moves around the room.
“She’s going to need help,” she says, waiting. “Can we count on each other to be there when she needs us?”
Murmured agreements ripple through the room. Shadows stretch across the bed as everyone shifts closer, but I don’t take my eyes off Madison.
“If it’s okay with you,” I say, lifting my gaze to Claire. “If she agrees… I’d like her to move in with me. So I can look after her full-time. Everyone comes and goes as it is. It’ll make it easier to help.”
“What about Remi?” Halle asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Please don’t worry about us,” Sarah says through the phone. “Hunter, you do whatever you and Madison need to do. Whatever it is to make her recovery easier, you do that.”