Page 24 of Trusting Skulls

It’s been so long since I’ve written a letter, I find myself not knowing what to write about.

Which of those things would you prefer?

Do you want to simply know about my day, or do you want to read about the endless chatter of my mind?

I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed with either.

Lexie

I glance at the other envelopes, aching to read another, but she said only one. One is better than none. I google the colors of the rainbow and then fan them out across my bed in chronological order.

Somewhere over the rainbow.

So, I was right about the stuffed little dog on her bed. I thought he looked a lot like Toto.

There’s something about her that consumes my soul. She’s beautiful on the outside, but I know her real beauty is within. It’s buried under the pile of shit society and her parents have dumped on her. I know because I’ve seen her in some pretty vulnerable moments where it’s shown through. That’s when I fell in love with her.

From the minute I met her, her spirit has been calling to me. If only I could keep her there, in the stillness of my heart. Someday it will happen. I just haven’t had enough time with her yet.

I think her writing to me with no intention of me ever reading her words makes them even more endearing … and honest.

There’s no way I’m staying away from her when I get home.

We’ve been apart long enough.

Chapter Ten

Lexie

Not another package …

I roll my eyes and sit down beside Raffe.

“Jesse thought you could use some rest. She let you sleep in,” he tells me.

“Where are they?”

“They went for a walk.”

Good. I reach for the box, hoping I can be done with this part of the day before they get back. My heart breaks when I read his letter.

Lexie,

I’m sorry, but I don’t think I have a letter in me this week. It’s been tough. I thought I had come to terms with the things I’ve done, but I’m learning it’s the things I had to walk away from that keep me up at night. The women and children I wasn’t allowed to help.

Anyway, I kind of cheated on this week’s whittling project. You told me about your collection of hair pins one night whenyou were drunk and sad. It broke my heart. I hope this one becomes your prized piece, and a bigger part hopes it reminds you of me.

Ash

P.S. I handed you a pin that night, hoping you might show me. You didn’t disappoint. It took everything in me not to reach out and touch you there. The place you keep hidden behind your hair. Next time I’m not going to stop myself.

My body instantly ignites at the mere thought of him touching me there. It confuses me. It’s such an innocent place. My hands tremble as I twist my hair, pinning it up with my new favorite pin. It’s a perfectly polished piece of imperfect wood with a leaf carved at one end.

I trail the tips of my fingers over the back of my neck, branding this memory into the core of my brain. It feels like a turning point. It’s the first time he’s ever mentioned anything about wanting to touch me. I had myself convinced I repulsed him. A bigger part of me still believes it.

Raffe compliments me, breaking my train of thought. “Very pretty.”

I cover my face with my hands, not believing him. “Whatever. Believe it or not, I did look in the mirror this morning.”

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