Page 89 of Going Home

He looks out the back to see if Lex sits on the swings. Whenever life gets heavy, she can usually be found on the swing set, something he's sure a therapist would be able to analyze in three seconds flat after learning about her family. They remain empty and move slightly with the breeze.

"Where's your sister?" he asks Lucas, realizing they've lost both females.

"She was just here. I think she went to see if she could borrow a necklace or something from Lex."

Maybe they're just getting ready. There's still time before they need to be at the clubhouse, but Lex has had him worried for two days. She's been mostly silent since Lane passed, and she didn't want to talk about it. If Zane said anything to her that day, she doesn't want to share, which is probably safest for his brother-in-law's sake.

"Colt!" Hailey shouts and hurries to the doorway of his bedroom. "I think Lex is broken!"

"Mom's broken?" Noah asks in alarm.

"Stay with Lucas and Calla," he says and runs into the bedroom.

Hailey points towards the bathroom, and he walks in to find Lex curled up on the bathmat sobbing. "I came to ask about the necklace and she was just... like that."

"Why don't you go and check if we have any snacks to bring for Calla," he says and crouches down in front of Lex. When Hailey leaves, he cups his wife's face. "Baby?"

Her eyes won't meet his, and he picks her up, carrying her into the bedroom. He sets her on the bed, hating how damn light she is. As messed up as it may be, Colt wishes his wife was a stress eater instead of the type to have to force herself to consume food. He'd give anything to watch her scarf down a pizza after a vigorous round of lovemaking.

"Baby, talk to me."

She just holds out her hand, and he sees an envelope between her fingers. Taking it, he recognizes Lane's handwriting from the stack of letters Lex brought home for Margaret. She wrote Lex one, too.

"Can I read it?"

She nods before wiping her eyes and lies back on the bed.

Lex,

I don't have the words to express how grateful I am for you. I've been so focused on my own misery and making sure my family is taken care of that I completely overlooked the misery I created for you and yours. Until you held me as I cried, I didn't realize just how much weight you've lost. How tired you are. The fact that I know you have these two new teenagers in your home but don't remember their names. I've asked so much of you, but I haven't given you anything in return.

I'm sorry I asked you to keep this from Colt. Like I said, I had this foolish hope that some type of miracle would happen. That there would be a treatment the doctors hadn't thought of, or one that was just recently approved, and I'd be okay. That it would cure me, or at least give me better odds to fight. I didn't want him to know because I didn't want it to get out, but I also didn't want it to be real. Until it felt real, I didn't feel like I was dying.

Looking back, I see how terrible of a decision this was. I forced you to keep a secret until you broke, and I should have realized you needed someone to lean on while I leaned on you. It's something I can never make up to you and will never forgive myself for. I wish you'd have broken your promise and taken care of you. There's no way I would have held it against you.

I chose you to help me because you're so strong. You've faced down death. You run into danger head on. When it comes to pissing off the men wearing the Drifter leather, you don't give a shit. Even after you were kidnapped (for the umpteenth time) and tortured, you still put us all in our place at that terrible meeting we had out of fear. You stood by the men who let you down time and time again because you're loyal to a fault. And I mean that as both a compliment and an insult.

Courage has never been one of my strengths, and to prove my point, I'm going to admit something in this letter I couldn't say in person. I'm ashamed. I would like for you to forget one of the many, many favors I've asked you since you came home to help me. I asked you to find a way to help Zane aim his anger in the right direction, but after he returned with Margaret that night, I don't think it's a healthy option for you. He shared his perspective on this situation, and he's in no position to listen to anyone, including me. He needs you, but he won't allow himself to. I hope it will change, but I can't ask you to do this for me. It's not fair.

If you could still give him the letter I gave you for the funeral, that's all I need. As long as Margaret knows she can count on you, I feel at ease. She's going to need you because I don't think Zane will be able to be the father I know he is. The one his daughter desperately needs. For a while, I fear she'll lose both of her parents, and it breaks my heart. I feel responsible because I'm the one leaving them. I created this large mess, and I won't be here to help clean it up. For that, I'm so sorry.

I want you to know you are the best sister-in-law I could've ever dreamed of. You stepped in and did more for me than I ever had a right to ask of you. And you do everything with such amazing grace and poise. I really doubt anything else in your crazy life even remotely faltered while you helped take care of me, and that's more impressive than you'll ever know.

I may be older than you, but I always tell Margaret that I want to be you when I grow up. Strong, independent, smart, beautiful, and a forgiving soul. You're loved by the club for so many reasons that I don't think I have the strength to even begin listing them here. I'd still be writing by the time I have to say goodbye.

Please don't ever doubt your place with the club again. You belong here, and you have the power to make change happen. You've done it already, and you inspire it. Sometimes... you force it up on others, but it's usually for the best.

I don't know much about your foster kids, but I do know they won the lottery with you and Colt. To take in two teenagers is generous, and forget about everything else. You're going to change their lives, and they'll be better people for knowing the two of you.

I know you feel guilty right now for the relief you feel that this is finally over. Don't. I created so much chaos in your life, and it's okay to be relieved. I think in a way, Zane and Margaret feel something similar. The anticipation of the inevitable pain is sometimes worse than the actual hurt. It doesn't take it away, but the intensity isn't quite as severe. At least, I hope not.

I hope to see you again one day when you walk up to those pearly gates, or whatever you believe in. Just, make it when you're old and finished. A hundred and thirty should probably be old enough. Take care of my girl for me.

I love you,

Lane

Wiping his own eyes, Colt looks at Lex. "She understands what she caused with Zane."

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