Dirty Letters Read online Vi Keeland, Penelope Ward

Categories Genre: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
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Your love,

Griffin

P.S. Please say yes.

P.P.S. Marry Mee-Mee.

I folded the letter and closed my eyes, remembering the day Griffin had proposed a year ago. We’d been roaming the country in the RV after he’d returned from his European tour. While Griffin was away in Europe, Doc died suddenly of a heart attack. I’d gone to check on him in his tiny house and found him in bed unconscious. It was the second most difficult moment of my life and really proved just how much strength I had. Because I never would have thought I could have survived finding him like that. But I just knew I had to be strong for him, that he would never want to be the source of my grief. I owed it to Doc to put his own teachings to good use when it came to losing him.

Right after Doc died, Griffin flew back from Europe to be with me, citing a family emergency. The tour was put on hold until we had some time to properly grieve. After he returned to Europe and finished the last couple of postponed shows, he came back to Vermont. That was when our new life began as we took to the open road with Hortencia in tow. It was during that trip, parked somewhere in Florida, that Griffin had handed me his proposal letter before getting down on one knee. Of course, I said yes.

Now, one year later, we were home in Los Angeles on the morning of our wedding day. Griff had agreed to get ready in the RV so that I could have some privacy. We planned to do photos before the ceremony. So he’d be seeing me soon.

With the entire second floor of our home to myself, I was taking this time to enjoy the peace and quiet—aside from Hortencia’s occasional oinking. While I’d made a few friends out here, I chose not to have any bridesmaids. There was no one who could replace Izzy today; she was here in spirit as my maid of honor. The ceremony would be small, just some of our closest friends. Griffin’s dad flew in from London with his new wife. I knew that was stressful for Griff, but I was proud of him for taking that step in inviting him.

Our wedding would be taking place at the Dr. Chester Maxwell Aviary here in Los Angeles. Griffin had given them a sizable donation, and they’d renamed it in Doc’s memory. This was a very emotional day for me, far more than I’d ever imagined. The two men who I would have wanted to walk me down the aisle—my father and Doc—were both gone. So Griffin would be doing the honors.

I opened the window to let some fresh air in before I would have to put on my dress. In my silk robe, I stared up at the clear California sky and took a deep breath in.

It was then that I noticed a red cardinal perched on the wrought iron balcony. Of course, any time a bird would so much as fly by me, it would make me think of Doc. But there was something different about this one. It wasn’t flitting around or chirping like the other birds that roamed around the garden. It was stoic. This one just seemed to be staring at me.

“Hello,” I said.

It tilted its head in response.

I specifically remembered Doc saying something about the red cardinal, how people often believed they were messengers from lost loved ones.

I’d expected it to fly away, but instead it flew toward me and landed on the windowsill right next to me. My eyes began to well up with tears, mainly for how pathetic I was in hoping that this was somehow Doc sending me a message—or Doc himself. I wanted to believe more than anything that this little bird was him. But I would never know. I just started to cry.

I imagined where my life would be without Doc and without Griffin. It was ironic, because were it not for Doc, I might never have reconnected with Griffin, because the California trip wouldn’t have happened. And without Griffin, I couldn’t imagine how I would have dealt with losing Doc—the only family I had left. I was so lucky to have had such important men in my life who’d impacted me in profound ways.

“Hello, friend,” I said to the bird. “I’m going to pretend that it’s you. Because it makes me happy to think that you might have transformed into one of the creatures that were so beloved to you. But most of all, I want to believe that you’re here with me today, where you should be. You would have walked me down the aisle, you know.” I wiped my eyes. “I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye to you. But I know you’re here with me still. When I’m scared, I still hear your voice cheering me on. I carry you everywhere. Because of you I am, Chester Maxwell.”


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