Page 70 of Letters to the Lost

Wrapping my arms around her waist from behind, I bend down, skimming my nose down the collum of her neck. Loving the way she shivers from the contact.

“Stop it,” She scolds, batting at my hand, “I’m trying to learn how to cook here.”

“Sorry Princess. So how did you learn to bake like a pro but not cook?” I ask, leaning against the counter as I watch her intently. But regret the moment the question slips from my mouth when her eyes turn sad, “You don’t have to answer that,” I say quickly, trying to reassure her.

“No, it’s ok. I don’t mind as much anymore,” she says, taking a deep breath, “I had a nice neighbor when we first moved, she would look after me when Jane had to work. She taught me how to bake cookies. ‘A little treat to keep the bad nightmares away’ she would tell me.”

“She sounds nice,” I tell her.

Pulling her hand into mine, I rub small circles into her palm as she continues to speak.

“She was the best. She went into a nursing home a few months after we moved in, her legs weren’t the best. But I never forgot the recipes she taught me, and I would make them every year for Chlo on her birthday, she practically demanded them,” She lets out a watery laugh, her eyes brimming with tears as she talks about her sister.

“Come here, Princess,” I command, my arms wide open for her to walk into.

Her head nestles into my chest as I wrap my arms tightly around her, refusing to let go until her arms fall away.

“I miss her,” She chokes out, “I miss her every single day and I never thought I would bake those cookies again. The memories hurt so much sometimes, and I feel like I’m forgetting parts of her even when it’s only been a year.”

“You never will forget her Autumn. The grief you are feeling is still raw and real, just like the day you lost her,” I say as I kiss her forehead softly, “But I think when we start to forget little things about them, it’s not this horrible thing but that your heart is healing a little bit, and you are finally moving on from her death in a healthy way.”

“You think so? There are days when I wake up and just for a moment I forget that she is gone. I get up and think of everything I need to do for her that day then it all comes crashing around me that she’s truly gone, and I feel like I’ve lost her all over again. Other times I wake up and I can go throughout my whole day and not even think about her once until something reminds me, and then I feel horrible for forgetting.”

“You are allowed to move on. You are allowed to be happy. Doing both does not mean you love her any less,” I tell her sincerely. Praying she believes my words.

“I know. Thank you for letting me cry this out,” She says pulling back from my arms, her eyes red and puffy, “Now let’s cook. It already smells amazing.”

“Ok Princess but then cookies.”

Pulling out the two batches of cookies from the oven, the heat from the oven catching my face. I close the oven door with my foot and place the trays on the cooling racks.

“I could have helped y’know?” Autumn laughs from her seat at the island.

“Nope. You sit that pretty butt of yours right there while we wait for these to cool. They smell delicious.”

“They will taste amazing. The rocky road one was always a favorite of mine.”

“Well hello, there Cupcake. Those cookies smell almost as good as you do,” Dominic announces as he strides into the kitchen making a beeline for our girl.

“Dominic!” Autumn squeals, launching herself from her seat into his arms. Her arms wrapping around his neck and her legs around his waist.

“Missed you,” He murmurs loud enough for me to hear, his head nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

“Missed you too. Where have you been?” She asks him.

Dominic's arms tighten around her in response as he flicks his eyes to me, a silent question if he should tell her.

With a small nod of my head, he relaxes.

Walking Autumn back to the island, he sits with her in his lap.

“I was taking care of a problem. We found out who put the cameras in your room just before I came to you, and I showed him exactly what happens to someone when they hurt you,” he tells her, his eyes guarded as he eyes her warily. Bracing himself for her rejection.

“You killed him?”

“Brutally.”

“Good,” she says, ghosting her lips over his.

---