Larkin's Letters by Jax Jillian Read Free Book Online

wake the entire hotel. My head shot straight up off of my pillow, and for a moment, I didn’t know where I was. It was pitch-black, and the lights that did shine in the darkness were a blinding blur. I looked over and squinted at the alarm clock as I shut it off.
    Just 6:00 a.m. I barely got any sleep, tossing and turning with every subtle noise that emerged from the hallway, from the thin hotel walls, from the drift of the curtains blowing from the breeze coming through the window. As I rolled back over, I gathered my thoughts and tried to make sense of the day I was about to journey through. I had no expectations, and I figured I was better off hoping for the best but expecting the worst.
    I drew myself a warm bath, and as the mountains of bubbles swallowed my body, the wonder of whether or not you would change your mind consumed my thoughts. I know how busy you are, and you certainly have no obligation to me. It has been six weeks since that night you came to see me, and although we speak almost every other day, we don’t speak much about my sickness. You promised me you would be here with me at my first treatment, and although I truly want you to be there, I always make sure you don’t feel like you have to. But you keep assuring me over and over again that you will be here.
    As I towel-dried off after my bath, I heard a knock at the door. I quickly slipped into my robe, approached the door, and although I would have given anything to see you standing on the other side, I felt an overwhelming sense of comfort and safety as I stared at the beautiful woman standing before me—my mother Joan.
    I look up to my mother more than any other person, and I aspire to be just like her. As you know, she is very protective of me, her baby daughter—even though I didn’t quite turn out like she had hoped. If it were up to her, I would have been captain of the cheerleading team and homecoming and prom queen just as she was when she was in high school. But I know she loves me just the same and has supported every decision I have ever made. After all, it is my mother’s maiden name that I am named after.
    As my mother waited for me to get ready to leave for the hospital, I struggled to find what to wear. I wanted to dress comfortably because I didn’t quite know how long I would be in the hospital and what exactly was going to happen. As I dug through the dresser drawers, I noticed your black and gray OCNJ sweatshirt you had given me a long time ago. Perfect. If you don’t show up, if you do change your mind, then at least I would still feel close to you. I also slipped into a pair of cream-colored sweatpants, and I stepped into my gray and pink flip-flops. You know, the ones you laughed at when I bought them.
    I’ve had an uneasiness in my stomach all morning as I think about the chemotherapy. The nervousness severs through my appetite like a machete even though I know it is in my best interest to eat something. But the thought of food just ties the rope in my stomach tighter. I am glad my mother is with me, but I really need you to be here.
    I am writing to you as I sit in the passenger seat of my mom’s Land Rover. The freeway is jam-packed, and we are stop-and-go as we navigate our way to the hospital in the midst of rush-hour traffic. Let me take you along as Joan and I have a conversation. This will be fun, don’t you think? Remember, I said I was going to tell you everything.
    “Is Ryan coming, honey?” my mother pries as she concentrates on the traffic-filled Philadelphia freeway.
    “He said he would be there. I hope he comes,” I said.
    “Well, can you blame him if he doesn’t? He certainly shouldn’t have to deal with this. At least he wants to help you financially. That was very generous of him and absolutely unnecessary. I’m surprised you asked.”
    “I didn’t ask,” I immediately responded with resentment in my voice. “He offered, and I reluctantly accepted.”
    “He offered? Really?” My mother