Between The Lines

Chapter 124: Elegant Script

Lane's POV (1st Person):

I stared at the letter for what felt like hours, the edges worn from where I'd held it too tight, too many times, without actually opening it. The envelope was slightly crinkled now, like it had absorbed some of the weight I couldn't carry.

Mum's handwriting was still clear, though. The same elegant script I'd grown up seeing on birthday cards and shopping lists. It was strange, knowing these were her last words to me—written before she knew she wouldn't get the chance to say them out loud.

I sat on the edge of my bed, the apartment too quiet around me. Everything felt heavy. The air, the silence, even the damn letter. Like it was daring me to open it. Daring me to face what I'd been avoiding for weeks now.

But I couldn't run from this anymore. I couldn't keep burying it, pretending it didn't exist. Mum was gone, and no amount of hiding would change that. No amount of pushing Rebecca away would protect either of us from the truth.

I exhaled slowly and slid my thumb under the flap, tearing it open with a shaky hand. The sound seemed to echo in the stillness, like a crack in the world I'd been holding together with duct tape and sheer will.

The letter unfolded easily, the paper soft and worn, but the words—those hit harder than I expected.

Lane,

I hope you never have to read this. I hope I'm sitting next to you, laughing at the thought of leaving behind a letter like this. But if you are reading it, well... I guess I didn't get that luxury.

I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry I won't be there to see the man you'll become, even though I already know you're someone to be proud of. You always have been.

I know you, Lane. You're strong, but you carry more than you should. You always have. And if you're reading this, I can only imagine what you're feeling right now. Grief, guilt, anger... maybe all of it. And that's okay. It's okay to feel those things.

But, Lane, don't shut people out. Don't shut her out.

I paused, blinking back the sudden sting in my eyes. I knew exactly who she meant. Her. Rebecca. The girl who had found her way into my life and my heart when I wasn't even looking for it.

Mum had known. Of course, she'd known.

The letter blurred for a second, and I wiped my eyes quickly, swallowing hard before continuing.

You don't have to be strong all the time. You don't have to carry it all alone. Let yourself grieve. Let yourself feel everything, even when it hurts.

And let yourself love. Don't let fear stop you from that.

I'm so proud of you, Lane. Of the man you are. And I know, wherever life takes you, you'll be okay.

But you don't have to do it alone.

With all my love,
Mum

The letter slipped from my hands, fluttering to the floor like it couldn't bear the weight of what it had said. I couldn't, either. Not really.

I sat there, staring at nothing, the words burning themselves into my brain.

I'm so proud of you. Don't shut her out. You don't have to do it alone.

I didn't realise I was crying until a tear hit my hand, the drop cold against my skin. I hadn't cried since the funeral. Not like this. Not the kind of tears that made your chest ache, that hollowed you out and left you feeling raw, exposed.