Page 107 of Just One Moment

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Page 107 of Just One Moment

Thattidbit of information let me know of his caring nature.Andsomething told me he wouldn’t share that information with just anyone.

Seeingthis side of him is fascinating andIcan’t imagine how vulnerable he feels knowingI’mreading it.

Butfrom this small insight into his mind,Ifeel closer to him than ever before.

“AuntyQuinn!”

Chestnutbrown pigtails are the last thingIsee beforeI’mattacked by a tiny human.

Myheart squeezes like it did the first timeshe called me that name.Idrop a hand to the little girl’s head. “Hey,Lottie.Whatare you doing here?”

I’mstanding outside the bakery, admiring the stencilsIapplied to the new windowDexfitted the other day.Wreathsof holly and tiny snowflakes now sit around the edge of the glass.

“Ihave something for you.”Shesmiles up at me, with the same green eyes as her uncle.

Florence, who is wrapped up in layers of clothes, jogs up behindLottie. “I’vebeen away for a year and already my body has forgotten how cold theseEastCoastwinters can be.”SherufflesLottie’shair. “Hey, stinker, did you giveQuinnher letter yet?”

“Thereyou go!”Thelittle girl thrusts her arms toward me, with a little white envelope clutched between her mittened hands. “Daddytold me to say that, umm…Oh! ‘Thankyou for makingUncleGraysmile like a creeper whenever you’re around.’”

Isnort andFlorencerolls her eyes before speaking. “Ialso have a message.Wedon’t know each other that well.Yet.Butthe wayGrahamlooked at you when you stepped out of that car at the wedding, it was like seeing a love story unravel before my eyes.Mybrother has never shared his feelings with many people.Withyou, he can’t seem to contain them.Mostof all”—she steps up and hugs me tightly—“you didn’t try to change him.Youallow him the space to think; to exist in his quiet thoughts.Grahamwas the personIturned to when our dad passed.Sometimeswe’d just sit there in silence together and it was the best companyIcould have asked for.”

“I’mnot sureIcan handle many more visits like this,”Isay asIdab at my eyes. “Butthank you.”

“I’dkeep some tissues close by.”Shelaughs before they both wave goodbye and head towardOurPlace.

We’vebeen apart for five days.

Ihadn’t expected anymore letters afterBooth’sdelivery, andI’mnot even through the door of the bakery beforeI’mshredding through the envelope.Mysmile grows wider whenIsee it’s another journal entry.

November15

Myworst nightmare came to life today.ThesecondIheard the wordsMomand hospital in the same sentence,Ithought the worst.

She’sfine, but she will not be leaving the house.Everagain.

Thelast time someoneIloved was hurt, the personIexpected to see me through the pain let me down.NotQuinn.Shestayed with me.Consoledme.Gaveme time to collect my thoughts.

Forthe first time in a long time,Iopened up to someone who wasn’t my family.Itscared the shit out of me butIfelt lighter after it.

Shesaid something that rocked me to my core though. “Idon’t want you to be anything else.”

WhenIheld her in my arms that night,Iplayed those words over in my brain.HaveIbeen too worried about whatIshould be, rather than whatIam?

Iread the last part over and over.Thisis dated weeks before the night of the wedding, but his words tell me he was slowlystarting to see himself clearly.Andalso what damageJennadid to his self-esteem.

WhenIget back to the van that evening,Iadd the letter to the pile beside my bed.

ThenewestDavidAttenboroughdocumentary airs tonight, butIcan’t bring myself to watch it withoutGraham.

He’srespecting my wishes for space, butIso badly want to text him about his day and to hear his voice.

Iremind myself this is aboutbothof us working on ourselves andIneed to do my part.

Pickingup my phone,Idial the numberJogave me this morning.Aftera brief conversation,Ihave an appointment booked forJanuaryto meet with a therapist.It’sgoing to take time, andIknow thatGraham’sown journey isn’t going to happen overnight.

Butwe’re both trying.

AndI’mso proud ofus.




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