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Authors: Jessica Wood
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myself before I opened the door.
“Clo!” His eyes lit up as soon as he saw me and he pulled me into his arms.
“Jax, stop this,” I cried out as I pushed him away. “I thought I made myself very clear last night.”
“Clo, it was all a big misunderstanding. I’m sorry about hugging you but I just got so excited to see you and hold you in my arms.”
I frowned, confused by his words. “I know you were drunk last night, but I wouldn’t call that a misunderstanding, Jax. I know my words upset you, but we need to be adults here. We need to think about what we’re doing. You can’t just hold me in your arms because you’re excited to see me—you just can’t. It can’t—”
“Stop, Clo,” he cut me off from my tirade. “That’s not what I mean. The misunderstanding I’m talking about is over the letters you found, about who your father is.”
“Shh,” I hissed as I quickly rushed outside and closed the front door behind me. “I haven’t told Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom yet.”
“You won’t have to,” he said excitedly, almost close to laughter. “You’re not my sister, Clo! My dad’s not your dad.”
I froze and stared at him in disbelief. “What did you just say?”
He grabbed my arms and beamed at me. “You’re not my sister. We can be together!” He pulled me into his chest and pulled me tight between his arms. “I’m never going to let you go this time, Clo. Never.”
I felt numb with shock, unable to accept his words, unable to allow myself to have any hope that we could be together—that what he was saying was real.
When he finally released me from his embrace, he pulled out a small stack of letters from his back trouser pocket and handed them to me.
I took the stack of letters cautiously. As soon as I saw the handwriting on the first letter, I knew they were John’s handwriting.
“Are these the letters I found?” I asked in confusion. I didn’t remember Jackson taking the letters with him when I gave them to him to read.
“No, these are different ones. These are new letters my dad wrote to your mom.”
“Newer?” I stared at him, unable to process what this all meant.
“Yes, read them.” He smiled at me encouragingly, and I couldn’t resist wanting to feel as happy as he looked at that moment.
I took a deep breath and sat down on the steps in front of the door. Jackson sat down next to me and watched me anxiously as I started to read the letters.
There were no dates on any of the letters, and the first few I read through were filled with John’s regrets and undying love for my mother. He wrote about how much he missed my mother, about how he made a mistake in marrying Jackson’s mother, about how he let his family influence his decision and married for the money and prestige Jackson’s mother’s family would be able to provide him.
But it wasn’t until one of the last letters that my name came up, and I heard myself gasp when I read through it.
Dear Judy,
You have no idea how much I’ve missed you over the years. I know it’s been almost twenty years since I’ve written to you. I guess I was afraid to. During the time I abandoned you and married another, I had written several letters to you. But I was a fool and a coward and never sent those letters to you. I guess I didn’t want to admit to you that I was wrong, that I didn’t leave you because I didn’t love you anymore. I was ashamed for you to know that I was selfish and picked money and power over our love. And now that I’m writing this letter years later, I know I couldn’t send this letter to you even if I wanted to because you’re already gone.
I know I’ve wronged you in so many ways and I’m filled with regret that I was never able to make it up to you. Before you passed away, I hurt you by leaving you at your time of need and marrying someone I didn’t love to make my parents happy. And even after you’ve passed away, I seem to continue to hurt you with what happened with
“Clo!” His eyes lit up as soon as he saw me and he pulled me into his arms.
“Jax, stop this,” I cried out as I pushed him away. “I thought I made myself very clear last night.”
“Clo, it was all a big misunderstanding. I’m sorry about hugging you but I just got so excited to see you and hold you in my arms.”
I frowned, confused by his words. “I know you were drunk last night, but I wouldn’t call that a misunderstanding, Jax. I know my words upset you, but we need to be adults here. We need to think about what we’re doing. You can’t just hold me in your arms because you’re excited to see me—you just can’t. It can’t—”
“Stop, Clo,” he cut me off from my tirade. “That’s not what I mean. The misunderstanding I’m talking about is over the letters you found, about who your father is.”
“Shh,” I hissed as I quickly rushed outside and closed the front door behind me. “I haven’t told Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom yet.”
“You won’t have to,” he said excitedly, almost close to laughter. “You’re not my sister, Clo! My dad’s not your dad.”
I froze and stared at him in disbelief. “What did you just say?”
He grabbed my arms and beamed at me. “You’re not my sister. We can be together!” He pulled me into his chest and pulled me tight between his arms. “I’m never going to let you go this time, Clo. Never.”
I felt numb with shock, unable to accept his words, unable to allow myself to have any hope that we could be together—that what he was saying was real.
When he finally released me from his embrace, he pulled out a small stack of letters from his back trouser pocket and handed them to me.
I took the stack of letters cautiously. As soon as I saw the handwriting on the first letter, I knew they were John’s handwriting.
“Are these the letters I found?” I asked in confusion. I didn’t remember Jackson taking the letters with him when I gave them to him to read.
“No, these are different ones. These are new letters my dad wrote to your mom.”
“Newer?” I stared at him, unable to process what this all meant.
“Yes, read them.” He smiled at me encouragingly, and I couldn’t resist wanting to feel as happy as he looked at that moment.
I took a deep breath and sat down on the steps in front of the door. Jackson sat down next to me and watched me anxiously as I started to read the letters.
There were no dates on any of the letters, and the first few I read through were filled with John’s regrets and undying love for my mother. He wrote about how much he missed my mother, about how he made a mistake in marrying Jackson’s mother, about how he let his family influence his decision and married for the money and prestige Jackson’s mother’s family would be able to provide him.
But it wasn’t until one of the last letters that my name came up, and I heard myself gasp when I read through it.
Dear Judy,
You have no idea how much I’ve missed you over the years. I know it’s been almost twenty years since I’ve written to you. I guess I was afraid to. During the time I abandoned you and married another, I had written several letters to you. But I was a fool and a coward and never sent those letters to you. I guess I didn’t want to admit to you that I was wrong, that I didn’t leave you because I didn’t love you anymore. I was ashamed for you to know that I was selfish and picked money and power over our love. And now that I’m writing this letter years later, I know I couldn’t send this letter to you even if I wanted to because you’re already gone.
I know I’ve wronged you in so many ways and I’m filled with regret that I was never able to make it up to you. Before you passed away, I hurt you by leaving you at your time of need and marrying someone I didn’t love to make my parents happy. And even after you’ve passed away, I seem to continue to hurt you with what happened with
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