The Moment of Letting Go by J. A. Redmerski
Finally I get up and storm my way into my bedroom, nearly tripping over a laundry basket, tears streaming down my cheeks, tears of anger and guilt and fear. I yank open the desk drawer and take Kendra’s letter into my fingers. And I stare at it. My eyes burn and I feel sick to my stomach and my head throbs.
Biting down hard, I slip my finger behind the tiny opening at one corner of the envelope and drag it harshly across, ripping it open. My tears get heavier, burning my nostrils and sinuses, blurring my vision. The envelope falls to the floor beside my shoes. The folded paper in my hand feels like the weight of the world. It’s so heavy, so painfully heavy.
I start to open it, but stop just as my fingers disappear behind the top fold. Choking on my tears, I crush the single sheet of paper in my hand and hold it against my chest, screaming to myself under my breath, close-lipped, teeth gritted, until I can’t see straight and my eyes slam shut.
I rip the paper to shreds without reading it and let each piece fall to the floor.
I need air. I can’t breathe.
I run out of my room, down the hall, through the living room, and out the front door into the cool night air.
I stop cold in my tracks, and what breath I have left is knocked right out of me when I see Luke staring back at me from the end of the sidewalk, his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans.
THIRTY-FOUR
Sienna
For a time that feels like forever, I can’t speak. I don’t blink. I feel like I’m hallucinating. Are my feet moving? I never realized I had been slowly walking toward him. Maybe he was walking toward me. I don’t know.
Luke smiles.
I shake my head over and over again, racked by overwhelming disbelief and relief and a hundred other emotions I can’t name.
“Sienna—”
Dashing across the sidewalk, I sprint toward him and fall into his arms.
“You’re OK!” I cry into his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around me, squeezing me nearly to death. “You’re not dead!”
“No, baby, no. I’m fine.” He kisses the top of my head.
“But … oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here.” I can’t think straight. My head feels swollen with emotion and questions and stuffy from the tears.
I pull away from his chest, but I don’t let him go and keep my arms wrapped around his waist.
“But I thought—” I look down, the black lettering on his brown T-shirt blurring in my vision.
“Luke,” I say, looking back up into his eyes, “how are you here?”
He smiles softly. “I know I said I’d wait for you,” he begins, “and I did for a while, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to see you.”
I’m confused. I’m not sure he is answering my question. I was asking how he’s alive. Because of Kendra’s letter. But the feeling of being wrapped in his arms again takes over and I don’t care about that right now.
“Sienna,” he says, and our eyes meet, “you’re all I’ve thought about since you left. I need you in my life.”
My gaze strays again.
I want to be with him too, more than anything, but …
He cups my face within his hands, stealing my gaze back. A tear slips down my cheek. He leans in and kisses it away. I’m so overwhelmed with emotion, just knowing that he’s alive, that I can’t truly grasp everything right now: that he’s here, the things he’s saying to me, why I feel like I’ll collapse on the sidewalk and die if he leaves.
Finally it hits me.
“But, Luke … the thought of you … I can’t stand the thought of you—” Sobs rack my body and my hands begin to push against his chest. “I can’t take it! I thought you were dead! I missed you so much! And I thought you were dead!” I scream that word into the night air.
Luke’s arms collapse around me again and he holds me tight. “It’s OK, baby. It’s OK. You never have to worry about that again. Do you hear me? Sienna. Look at me.” He shakes me, his hands around my biceps, the intensity in his eyes so palpable. “You never have to worry about that again,” he repeats, as if to drill it into my head.
“What do you mean?”
He looks into my eyes again.
“I went to Norway,” he says, “but I didn’t jump.”
I just look at him for a moment. Confused. Elated, but confused. “But … but why didn’t you jump?”
A smile appears in his beautiful hazel eyes. His fingers tighten gently about my upper arms, and then the smile finds its way to his lips. “Because … I found something more worth dying for.”
I can’t speak, but my tears say everything that words can’t.
“I’m madly in love with you,” he goes on, “and I couldn’t go another minute without seeing you.”
Involuntarily I suck in a shuddering breath, tears streaming down my cheeks in rivulets. He draws his lips toward mine and kisses me deeply. I cry against his mouth, his tongue warm against mine, his hands cradling my head. The kiss is long and hard and passionate, both of us afraid to let go.
Luke holds me in his arms for a long time, just the two of us standing on the sidewalk outside my apartment building. I close my eyes and picture being back on the island with him. I picture the constant rain, us tangled in the hammock, me walking across his back, shaving his face, throwing mud at him. I picture surfing and hiking and the helicopter ride. I think of everything from the very second I saw him to the last moment we shared.
I never want to be without him again.
But a small detail still haunts me.
I pull away and look up at him with wet eyes.
“If you’re saying what I think you’re saying …” I begin. “Luke, you know you can’t change who you are for me. We talked about this, remember? I couldn’t live with myself knowing that you gave up an important part of your life for me.”
The smile around his eyes becomes warmer.
“But I didn’t give it up for you,” he says. “I gave it up because of you. Because you made me understand that as much as I loved BASE jumping, I realized I loved it because it was something I shared with my brother. After he died it became more a responsibility than an experience.” He takes my hand and we sit down together on the edge of the sidewalk, side by side with our knees bent and our feet flat on the blacktop of the parking lot. He reaches over and hooks his arm around my leg, our shoulders pressed together. “A part of me—the guilty part, I guess—made me feel like I needed to continue doing what Landon loved most. Because he couldn’t do it himself anymore.” He sighs and his arm tightens around my leg. His fingers begin brushing the skin around my ankle. “I actually decided not to jump before I left. I went on to Norway with everybody else, but only to make peace with my brother. After everybody jumped and I sat on that rock alone, eleven hundred feet above the ground, looking out at the clouds, I talked to him. On his birthday. Out loud.” He laughs lightly. “If I hadn’t been out there alone, somebody might’ve thought I was crazy.”
I smile inwardly, and he goes on.
“But I told him all of the things I never got to tell him before he died …
The air was brisk so high up where thin clouds hung in the blue-gray sky all around me. Everybody had already jumped. And they lived. A part of me, more noticeable than usual, was afraid they might not make it, that this would be the jump that killed one of my best friends the same way my brother was killed. But they lived and I was left alone on that rock, just me and the sky and my brother, who I knew was there, sitting next to me.
“I’m sorry,” I said as the wind blew through my hair. “I never got to tell you that I’m sorry for abandoning you. But you were right, Landon. You were always right.”
I looked out ahead of me, past the few trees on the back of the ledge and into the sky; my legs were drawn up on the rock, my ankles crisscrossed, my arms wrapped loosely about my knees, my back arched into a slouch.
“You were the most important thing in my life, little brother”—I swallowed hard—“I’m just sorry that I reali
I choked back the tears, but then I just let them fall.
And then I smiled. I smiled because I knew that Landon forgave me. And then I laughed because I knew he was giving me shit.
“I met this girl,” I said. “I’ve never met anyone else like her, so full of life and passion and so sweet. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her.” I looked over on my right as if looking right at Landon, as if he’d never died. “I’m pretty sure because I feel like I need her to breathe. Every day when I wake up in the morning, hers is the first face I see. And I feel like she took a part of me with her when she left, a part of me that I can’t function without.” I paused and looked into the sky. “And I need her back.”
Then I smiled and said, “You’ll always be my brother. But I have to let you go.”
I lean over and kiss Luke on the edge of his mouth and then reach up and wipe the tear away from his cheek. And then the one from my own.
“I’m glad you couldn’t wait any longer,” I say in a quiet voice, and then kiss the edge of his mouth again.
Luke pulls me into his lap and wraps his arms around me, holding me protectively against him; I can feel his heart beating rapidly against my chest—mine is beating so fast I feel slightly dizzy. His lips caress mine with so much passion that I forget everything else. Through his kiss I relive every moment I’ve ever spent with him. My fingers wind in his brown hair, and tears of happiness nearly choke me.
The kiss breaks and we sit quietly for a moment, me in his arms.
Then I stand up and grab his hands, elation running through my body, making my arms and legs and chest tingle—I can’t believe he’s here!
“Let’s go inside,” I tell him and pull him to his feet, but when he gets up, he grabs me and kisses me again, clutching my butt cheeks in his big hands and hoisting me up, my thighs latched around his waist.
I kiss his face all over: his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, his temples, his very willing lips.
“Which apartment is it?” he asks with a big smile as he carries me down the sidewalk toward the building.
I kiss his lips again, my arms draped over his shoulders.
“One fourteen,” I tell him. “How’d you know where I lived?”
“You told me, remember?”
Ah, that’s right. I did tell him the name of the complex once.
“But how’d you know where to look?” I ask. “I didn’t tell you what building I live in.”
He kisses me again. And again.
“No, but you told me what kind of car you drive, so I figured it out.”
We come upon my door and my legs fall away from his waist.
“Why didn’t you just call?” I ask as I open the door and let him inside, my eyes scanning the floor, hoping I didn’t leave anything gross lying around.
“I told you I’d wait for you, remember?” he says. “And I almost called you several times, but then I decided I had to see you. So I took a chance. And here I am.” He opens his arms wide out at his sides, a big smile on his face.
“And besides,” he goes on, dropping his arms, “I figured if I was standing in front of you, it’d be harder for you to say no.”
“You want to know the truth?”
“The truth is good,” he says.
“I couldn’t have said no to you either way.”
He smiles.
I take his hand and lead him to the sofa. We sit down together, me on his lap.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asks.
“Because I was terrified. Luke, I really thought you were dead. I got a letter from Kendra, and it was like the nail in the coffin, y’know? I couldn’t open it. I didn’t want to know the truth.” There’s a strong catch in my voice.
Luke’s eyebrows wrinkle and his head rears back.
“You got a letter from Kendra?”
“Yeah. About a week after Norway. She sent it to my job.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“No. I’m dead serious.”
I jump up from his lap. “Come here and I’ll show you.”
Luke follows me into my bedroom.
I give him the torn envelope first with Kendra’s name and address beautifully written across the front. He looks down at it strangely while I’m picking the pieces of the letter up from the floor. I take them over to my desk and open them all, laying them out so I can put them back together like a puzzle. When I have all the pieces in place, I pat the paper down with the palm of my hand to smooth it out so that it’s readable.
And then I read it out loud.
Hey Sienna,
I know you probably never expected to hear from me. And it was a bitch tracking you down, just so you know. I sent an email through the website where you work, but it bounced back. I tried calling once, but I got the voice mail and, shit, I can’t stand voice mail. Talkin’ to myself and all. And no telling who’s listening to it. I hate that. Anyway. Look, Luke is a pretty aewsome awesome guy, and as you know, I’m kind of protective of him. OK, I’m a little batshit-crazy protective of him, but I am of all of my good friends because we’re like a family. And I know this might be weird because we didn’t know each other real well, but I think of you as family too and I think you and Luke belong together. Like, no joke. You’re kinda perfect for him (even if you’re afraid of heights) and I guess this is me trying to do right by you both and tell you that he’s so fucking in love with you it makes me nauseous. Seriously. He talks about you all the time. It might be sweet and all, but it’s weird. I think he needs to get laid. Maybe that’ll help. But with you, of course. I don’t want any bitches breakin’ his heart, y’know?
So anyway, just give it some thought. He quit BASE jumping. Kinda sucks, but we all totally understand. Give him a call or somethning, something (I think I’m dyslexic!). And really, I kinda miss you too. I’ve never really got along with bitches before, but you’re all right.
Yeah, so umm, if anyone other than Sienna (dark reddish-brown hair, short bangs, and with like a million freckles) is reading this letter, do me a favor and get the hell out of my business. Thanks.
Sincerely,
Kendra Morganton
Luke laughs out loud and his hand goes up toward his face, where he rubs his fingers against his jaw—it needs another shave, which I’d be happy to give him.
“Wow,” he says with disbelief. “I, uh, well, I had no idea she did that. And I’m really kind of shocked that she’d do it at all. That’s not like her.”
I look back down at that letter sitting atop my desk in uneven pieces under the lamplight, and I think about how stupid it was that I never opened it before. I could’ve put my mind at ease weeks ago.
“To tell you the truth, she’s talked about you almost as much as I have.” He laughs. “She’ll never admit it, but she has. She really likes you. So do Seth and Alicia—everybody does, honestly. Even Melinda; she asks me about you all the time.”
Luke steps up to me and his fingertips touch the sides of my face as he peers into my eyes.
“Move to Hawaii, Sienna,” he says. My heart skips several beats. “I mean it. I want you to come live with me. I mean, if you want me to move to California, then I’ll do it because I can’t spend another day without you. But if you come to Hawaii, we don’t have to worry about buying a new house or anything like that. Mine’s not much, but it’s paid for. I-I mean, I can have some repairs done, get the ceiling fixed so you don’t have to look up at the water stains every time we go to bed; I can put some new cabinets and counters in the kitchen—you probably like that granite stuff. I don’t care. I’ll do it—”
I kiss his lips to shut him up.
“Yes,” I tell him. “I’ll move to Hawaii with you.”
His close-lipped smile brightens slowly, the look in his eyes overwhelmed with happiness.
“And I don’t care about the ceiling or the cabinets,” I say. “I don’t care if we have to sleep outside in the rain—ever
He wraps me in his arms, lifting my feet from the floor.
“Just so you know,” he says, “I would’ve given it up for you too.”
“Don’t say that,” I whisper onto his lips.
He kisses me.
“It’s true,” he says, carrying me over to the bed and laying me down. “I didn’t, but if things had been different and BASE jumping were my thing and not Landon’s, I would’ve given it up for you.”
My fingers touch his prickly, gorgeous face as he lies on top of me, looking down into my eyes. “I missed you,” I say, tracing my thumbs on the bone underneath his eyes. “I was sick without you. Promise me I’ll never be without you.”
His lips fall on my eyelids slowly, one and then the other, and then my forehead, and then my chin.
“I promise you’ll never be without me,” he says. “I’m yours for as long as you want me.”
I smile timidly. “That could be a really long time.”
He smiles in return, gazing into my eyes, and then his lips cover mine.
EPILOGUE
Sienna
Oahu, Hawaii
The community center has been revamped from top to bottom, it seems. It’s stunning! And without my help, Luke, Alicia, Braedon, and Melinda made the charity art event even more beautiful than I could have. Yards and yards of white tulle stream from the ceiling in soft waves, pulled apart in a triangular fashion, with strings of white lights flowing downward amid the fabric. Dozens of white paper globe lanterns are affixed at the top of each fabric display just like I suggested, hanging in clusters above each artist’s area as a highlight of the room.
The ceiling is filled with gold, clear, and silver helium-filled balloons, some in clusters, too, their ties strung together with fishing line. The glossy concrete flooring sparkles with the reflections of all the lights above it, and scattered against it around each display are faux white rose petals and glittery silver confetti—Alicia’s idea that turned out quite nice.