At the bottom of her bag is an envelope. This time, I don't think twice about snooping, because it's addressed to Our Future Hope, from Mom and Dad.

I sit on the edge of the bed and flip it over in my hands. The first page is a copy of my sketch; the one I made of her future room in our future house—the first one... with the huge armchair and all the little ones around it. There are stained splotches marring the otherwise perfect scene, most likely her blood from when the frame shattered.

I swallow the lump in my throat and take a deep breath, preparing myself for what's to come.

*****

Dear Mom,

I know it's been a while since I've written to you. Six years and one month, almost to the day. The thing is, I haven't found a need to write because I found someone else to share my secrets with.

Remember when I wrote last? About a boy I'd fallen in love with—and he had no idea I noticed him? Well... tomorrow, I'll stand before him, in front of all our loved ones, and we'll become husband and wife.

Did you know?

When you passed away, did you know he would be there? I think you did, Mom. I think you put two people in front of each other and you let fate play it's magic.

I hope that one day, I can do that for my daughters. I hope that I can keep them safe, protect them from all the bad, and help them see all the right in the world.

I hope one day they'll find someone just like Cameron. Someone to be their strength, their calm, their HOPE.

I love you,

Lucy Gordon.

-LUCY-

"You just wanna lie in bed for the rest of the night?"

We're in bed, lying on our sides, our faces almost touching. He nods once before kissing my chin. "Yup. I just want to hold you and love you."

"Good," I tell him, my fingers twisting his hair. "This is my favorite thing in the entire world."

"Me too," he mumbles. "And blow jobs."

My head throws back in laughter.

"And your laugh," he says, his eyes on mine. He pushes my shoulder until I'm on my back. Leaning on his elbow and resting his head in his hand, he adds, "Your laugh makes my world stop, Luce. I remember the first time I heard it, when you were at school, and you were reading. It was two days after our first kiss. I remember thinking that I'd give up all other senses if it meant I could hear you laugh again."

I raise my hand to move his hair away from his eyes.

"It was like a reward for me," he continues. "Like all those physically exhausting days of being with you and the boys and trying to be your calm, it was all worth it. Just for that one sound. That one emotion I pulled out of you. And all of it lead to this—to you being my wife."

I can't help the smile that forms. I love hearing it—the way he calls me his wife. "Say it again."

"Wife." He shifts so he's sitting on my waist and our hands are linked. "You know what that means, babe?" he says with a slight grimace. "It means you're going to have to learn to cook, maybe even clean."

I scrunch my nose and shake my head. "Nope."

"Yeah," he jokes, nodding as he does. "I'm sorry, it kind of comes with the title."

"Nooooo," I whisper yell. "But all that stuff takes away from valuable reading time!"

"Fine!" He rolls his eyes. "I'll learn how to do it. But you have to promise to read at least two smutty books a week."

"Deal."

"Deal," he responds, a smirk forming. "Shall we blow job on it?"

***

We don't blow job on it, in fact, we don't even have sex. We do what we wanted, we hold each other, and we talk, and we fall even more in love.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

-LUCY-

"Heidi left," Dylan deadpans from his seat next to me at the dining table.

"What?" I load up Cameron's plate with the room service breakfast we all ordered and look at Dylan. "What do you mean she left?"

He shrugs. "Ask her about it," is all he says, but his tone says what his words don't.

I pick up my phone and check for any messages or missed calls. There are none. "When did she leave?"

"Last night," Lucas answers.

My eyebrows bunch as I watch Dylan. The muscles in his jaw work back and forth while he pretends to read the paper. I look to everyone else, but they're not paying attention. "I'm glad you're here, Dylan," I tell him. "There's no way it would have been the same without you. I missed you a lot while you were gone."

He looks up, his features relaxing as he does. "You guys are my best friends, I should have kept in contact. I'm sorry I missed out on so much of it, Luce." He holds my hand resting on the table. "I should've been a better friend to you while you were going through so much."

I can't help but laugh. "Dylan, you were fighting a war."

He shrugs and looks away, releasing my hand. "I think maybe we all were."

And that's the cue that he's done talking.

"LUCY," Micky shouts. "DID YOU OPEN YOUR PRESENT?"

"Babe," Jake says. "You're shouting again."

"Oh." She looks down at the table.

Jake adds, "Kayla thought it'd be good times to jump in the pool last night, both her ears are water-logged and she can't fix it."

"OH MY GOD!" she shouts again. "I LOVE THAT BOOK!"

"What!" Cam matches her volume. "What the hell did you just hear?"