The Perfect Storm 3

Chapter 205

Miles's POV

Madison's eyes are fixed on the room in front of her. She doesn't even notice me breathing so close to her and I can't blame her. Her whole life there have been secrets underneath the surface that have been a part of her life without her knowing. 

They've been lingering beneath her all of this time.

"I . . . I can't believe this." She says, her voice trembling but somehow managing to be still and I can only hope it's not for my fucking sake. 

This girl deserves to scream at the whole world. My heart stings as she drops to her knees and then sits down on the floor, looking at everything around her.

"I can't believe she . . . she kept all of this from me." Madison's voice trembles. I don't know what to say, fuck, I haven't known what to say since I found out that her mother is fucking dead. I saw the woman a little over a week ago and now she's gone. 

What the fuck kind of cancer does that? The kind of cancer Madison's mother lied to her about. She is right, it could have so easily have been prevented if she had listened to her doctor, gotten treatment right away, and not have been afraid of the damn doctors every time Madison called her mom to check up on her. 

For fucks sake the girl had to drive to Ohio to take her mother to a doctor's appointment that god knows how long was overdue. And fucking David, that's who survived, but right now, I don't think that pain is Madison's main feeling. I leap down to the floor with her, holding her tight to me.

"I can't believe she kept all of this," Madison says, picking up a stack of letters as her eyes scan the room full of her father's stuff; full of her parent's past love.

"Why wouldn't she tell me?" Madison cries out one of the endless questions bound to be running through her.

"I don't know, baby, I don't know," I say calmly, holding her close to me as I watch her cheeks getting stained wet. Ach teardrops hurt more to see and I find myself wiping each and every one of them as quickly as I can, away from her cheek.

"You don't have to do this, you know." She tells me, frowning as her big hazel eyes stare up at me. She doesn't belong in this mess, I do, I should be the one dealing with this, with the guilt, hurt and pain of someone dying, not her; not the poor sweet innocent girl I love so much. I don't reply, I don't know how to, but her focus has drifted off of me anyway, and I can't blame her.

"There must be over a thousand letters in here—" She begins, her face hopeless at just how much of her parents' past is in front of her.

"A thousand and one," I speak, giving her the letter next to me.

"'The last letter I'll ever send you.'" She reads with tears in her eyes. Her eyes look up at me as she holds back tears as both of us sit there on the creaky wooden floor.

"I have to read all of these, I have to know, she didn't tell me . . . so I have to find out," Madison says, her voice low and in an almost whisper. I can't imagine what she's going through, but I'm going to try, I'm going to stay next to her for as long as it takes, even if deep down, she never wants to see me again. 

She grabs the stack of letters and starts to place them into the right order, looking at the small numbers in the very bottom of the right corner of each broken-down white letter. And before I know it, she has almost all of the letters sored out into order.

"I need to do this." She says, looking at me and I nod.

"You need to do this." I know she does, no matter how painful and when I watch her eyes examine the first letter, I know she's thinking the exact same thing.