Page 134 of Letting Go at 40

“How about what position should I take you in next?” I shift to face her, mirroring her.

“Also, not exactly a direct answer question.” Her lips slowly curl.

“What about something along the lines of always?” My lungs expand. I hold my breath.

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” I tease. “Was I asking a question?” I reach for her and tug her closer to me. Her legs tangle with mine as my arm slides over her waist and I cup her nape.

“I don’t know. Were you?” She giggles until I lean forward and lick along her neck.

“The only yes I want to hear right now is when I taste you again.”

“That’s not a question either but the answer is yes please.”

I nip the juncture of her shoulder and neck, and she yelps with a laugh in her throat. Then, I’m kissing her.

I do have a question for her.

Soon.

+ + +

We don’t necessarily make a two-week vacation around Archer’s wedding. We took days off for the celebration, though. As we spend so much time together for both business and pleasure, we didn’t see the need to actually gather at Lakeside Cottage.

Hell, we all live in the area now.

I’ve officially moved into Anna’s bedroom. Our bedroom as she calls it. Lynlee’s things were moved into the room next to Mila. We’ll be painting and arranging next weekend.

But first is the night dedicated to our annual bonfire.

The guys and I decided to forgo the tradition of only us. Instead, we keep all the families present deciding our best response to Ben’s request would be to show him—if he’s watching—how our family of friends has found love and grown.

Logan and Autumn are here with Lorna, two-year old Ben, and little Ruth, the newest addition to their family.

Zack and River along with the twins plus Lake have just announced another baby will be coming soon.

Archer and Jenna are still on their honeymoon, but Archer wasn’t ever part of our inner circle. However, they plan to be with us next year as they celebrate their one-year anniversary as Mr. and Mrs. McCaryn.

Anna hopes Amelia can join us as well.

We assemble as living proof that life goes on despite loss. And while our hearts are full of memories of Ben, the present is where we need to live. And learn. And love.

The women in our lives all know about the letters we received. They also know our ritual used to include writing Ben a response.

Instead, we’re quiet around the fire, watching the flames flicker and dance in the late evening. The kids have wandered down the beach a little, dancing in their own way with sparklers, lit by Calvin and Bryce. They are both nearly men in their own right, and they understand the meaning of this night. They are giving us a few minutes before marshmallow roasting.

“This is for you,” Anna says, leaning into my arm. We’re sitting on a blanket while the others fill the Adirondack chairs.

“What’s this?” I take the envelope from her, quickly flipping it over to see her name written in Ben’s distinct handwriting.

“I found this when I was cleaning out the main bedroom. When I did a final sweep before moving out my things and making the space for Amelia.” Anna pauses. “Remember how I’d been so upset that he didn’t write me a letter?”

I nod, recalling how she stormed out of the room, angry that she’d been skipped.

“Knowing I’d need something from him at a later date, he intentionally didn’t leave me a letter. He knew I’d still be grieving and anything he said then I’d fight.”

I twirl the envelope between my fingers. “And?”