Chapter 14 - THE LAST LETTER FROM MY MOTHER
I found the letter on a Sunday afternoon.
It was tucked inside an old gardening book.
My mother's handwriting covered the envelope.
For Claire, when she finally believes she deserves happiness.
I sat on the floor.
Opened it.
And began reading.
My mother wrote about love.
About courage.
About the importance of choosing people who made life feel safer rather than smaller.
Then came the sentence that broke me.
Sweetheart, never confuse being chosen with being loved. The right person will keep choosing you long after the excitement of the first choice has faded.
I began crying.
Ethan found me twenty minutes later.
He knelt beside me.
“Claire?”
I handed him the letter.
He read it quietly.
Then looked at me.
“Your mother was wise.”
I nodded.
“She was.”
He took my hand.
“Then I'll spend my life proving her right.”
That evening, we planted yellow roses on the terrace.
My mother's favorite.
Months later, I discovered I was pregnant.
I stared at the test.
Then laughed.
Then cried.
Then laughed again.
Ethan came home early.
As usual.
I met him at the door.
He looked concerned.
“What's wrong?”
I shook my head.
“Nothing.”
Then I handed him a tiny pair of baby socks.
He stared.
Looked at me.
Then at the socks.
“Claire?”
I nodded.
His eyes filled.
“Really?”
I laughed through tears.
“Really.”
He pulled me into his arms.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he whispered:
“Thank you.”
I smiled.
“For what?”
May you like
He kissed my forehead.
“For giving me a life I never knew how to ask for.”
