Page 177 of Broken Lines

…Only to come face-to-face with a collection of tacky coffee mugs.

“I’m five years sober, Jack,” Alice whispers quietly behind me.

I suck in air, feeling the shakes ripple through my skin until I feel her hand on my back.

“Sit down,” she murmurs quietly.

I let her guide me to a chair as the waves of need begin to ebb.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just dump all of this on—”

“Keep going,” I croak.

“Jackson—”

“Just fucking tell me, Alice.”

She nods.

“Look, I knew that there was another woman. I just didn't want to knowwhothat woman was. And I've spent years locking that part of my life into a compartment in my head. And I didn't know who that baby was, either…”

Her eyes lock with mine.

“Until that article about you in Ignition came out four months ago.”

I stare at her, gripping the countertop.

“What do you mean?”

She blinks back a tear.

“I mean this.”

She turns, opening a cabinet above the microwave and pulling something down. When she turns back, she shoves a stack of envelopes into my hands.

“I didn't know what these were. I mean, I—”

She looks away.

“I guess I did sort of know what they were. They were Iggy’s therapy. They were his way of connecting with this piece of him that he wasn't allowed to see, and whose life he wasn't allowed to be a part of. So, he wrote these letters.”

I stare at the unsealed, unaddressed envelopes in my hands.

“I always thought he wrote them and never sent them. But apparently, he did. Some of them, at least.”

I stare at what's in my hands, feeling my heart thud as I open one. But I already know what it's going to say. And when I read those first words on the top of that first page, my heart breaks a little.

Dear Prudence,

I had ice cream today. To you, that probably seems like something you get to do all the time when you’re a grown-up. But the funny thing is, it actually gets a lot harder to do stuff like get ice cream when you’re big.

When you’re a kid, all you want to do is grow up. But once you do, the crazy thing is, all you wanna do is be a kid again.

Anyway, I had my favorite—mint chocolate chip. The green kind, because the other kinds are rubbish. Trust me on that, I’m an expert. But I was wondering…what’s your favorite flavor of ice cream? It’s okay if it’s the not-green kind of mint chocolate chip. If that’s what you’re into, you do you, kiddo. And don’t let anyone, even me, tell you otherwise.

I hope things are good. And I hope you’re well and happy.

Stay young, kiddo. Growing up is kind of a scam.