Page 45 of Don't Leave Me Behind
I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.
I’m so sorry, Leni.
—CT
1,135 days without you
Dear Leni,
I don’t want to be here anymore.It’s too hard to live like this. I’m so tired, Leni.I wish that you could hold me one more time.
—C
My heart hammersin my chest. All these letters, these moments where he needed someone, and he never sent them. Never called me. I was a phone call away, and still, he never reached out. I waited for him to call me after that night, for him to at least check in and make sure I was okay. But the silence was louder than any words from him could have been.
My fingers itch to open the other envelopes, confirm this growing suspicion that maybe Clay lied. Maybe he did want me. Maybe he never stopped wanting me. So, why? Why didn’t he say anything?
Why wasn’t I enough?
Chapter 14
Please Don’t Ruin Smut For Me
Leni
Four o’clock,on the dot, my phone rings for my weekly call with my mom. I bought her Bluetooth headphones a few years back, and now we chat every Sunday while she prepares family dinner. It took a few years, after our big fight, to rebuild our relationship. It’s okay, but it has been better.
“Hey, Ma.” I settle into my reading nook, enjoying the feeling of the sun shining through the windows. I might not be a cat person, but I can one hundred percent respect their predisposition to napping in the sun.
“Hello, sweet girl, how are you?”
“I’m good, enjoying some time off for the summer.”
“You seeing anyone?”
I groan, stretching my legs out as much as I can in the oversized chair. “Ma, this is not what Sunday chats are about. You’re supposed to vent about the boys and remind me I’m your favorite child.”
She tuts at me, and I can hear her opening cabinet doors. “You are my favorite daughter.” I roll my eyes. It goes without saying that I’m her only daughter, and it’s such a copout. We allknow Adler is her favorite anyway. She was supposed to be done after having Toby; the doctors told her it wasn’t likely that she’d have any more, and then Adler came along. She’s had stars in her eyes ever since.
Youngest, am I right?
“What’re we making today, Ma?”
“Oh, nothing special, all the boys are out in the fields, and Brooks is busy with…stuff.”
“That’s not vague or ominous at all.”
“All will be revealed in time,” she says, like I’m a fantasy character on some wild quest and she’s the wise old Sage. “That’s why it’s just some sandwiches and veggies.”
“Brown paper bagging it, I like that. Tell me, are you cutting the veggies into shapes and making the world’s most bougie cold cuts?”
My mom was born to be a hostess. She has a heart for serving others, and her favorite way to do it is through food. I can’t remember a single bad day when she didn’t cheer me up with something beautiful and tasty.
“What am I supposed to do? Slap some cold meat and plastic cheese on it and call it food? That won’t do, Eleanor, and you know it.”
She goes through all the ingredients she has for sandwiches, like pickled onions, fresh tomatoes, and horseradish mustard. My mouth is watering hearing her describe them, and I’m half tempted to march my way over to the main house to steal one. I wonder if I’d be testing my luck by trying to sneak over a second time.
“One of the guests here, on that retreat last week, asked if we had a newsletter describing the goings on at our events. She said it would make for good visibility on the internet.”
