“I don’t know.”
“You ready? I’m going to read it out loud.”
I shook my head yes and moved closer to him.
Dear son,
Every day without your mum is hell on earth. I failed her. I failed you. I’m sorry to leave you with this bloody mess. It hurts my physical body to be alive. Your mum was the love of my life and the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m slowly dying of a broken heart and it literally is moving to slow for me to manage. I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better dad. That day I was at the pub drinking. The day your mother was killed by the bloody arsehole. Instead of coming home from work, I went to the pub. I'm the reason your mum was home alone when Daniel Paul came into our home. I always hated him. He was a loser, a common addict and a lifetime perp. He had a record with the authorities a mile long. Your mum was too nice. She took pity on him and he took her life. I hope he rots in prison
I wanted to be there for you but I wasn’t strong enough to carry on. I was a wreck without your mum. I couldn’t stop drinking and after I lost my job I lost custody of you. I’m glad your aunt Linda took you in. She was a true savior. I didn't want my sorry to consume you. She took you away and you didn't have to witness my despair. You have your aunt Linda, now. She’ll take care of you the way she always has. I tried to drink myself to death and I failed at that like I failed at being a husband and a dad. I’m sure you’ll find out how I did it. Living with the guilt and the lies was too hard for me. I want you to know that I loved you. You were my truly my son. That bastard that murdered your mum was a fucking sperm donor. No matter what he says he’s nothing. He tried to convenience your mum to abort you. I tried to make us a proper family. That jealous bastard that knocked your mum up as a teenager ruined our entire family.
I didn’t kill my self because of anything you did or didn’t do. One day I hope you will grow up and understand this. Life was a struggle for me without your mum. I couldn’t do it anymore. Life had me knackered to a point that I couldn’t come back from the pain and regret. I think I have some screws loose in my head. I wanted to die even if suicide was a sin. It’s not your fault. Be a good lad and listen to your aunt Linda. She loves you just as much as your mum and me. Please don’t hate me.
Love Dad.
Silence filled the attic. The letter was clear. It was sincere and probably the most honest words his dad ever wrote. I couldn’t see Jagger’s face because his face was planted firmly in the letter. He shuffled the three pieces of paper a few times. I removed the fedora from his head and tossed it back in the box. I ran my fingers threw his hair.
I heard a whimper and my heart started beating fast. He held the papers in one hand and tilted his head until it landed against my stomach.
His wail of agony weakened my knees but I was poised to stay on my feet. His arms wrapped around my butt and pulled me so tight into his face. His sobs were punching the walls. I raked my hands through his hair and tried to keep my tears inside my eyes.
Jagger was crying into my stomach. His muffled screams vibrated across my belly. His fingers gripped and clawed at my side. I could barely breathe. I felt a wave of hopelessness. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say. He’d read the most heart-wrenching suicide note.
Jagger broke our bond and abruptly jumped to his feet. He dropped the crumpled papers from his hands. He wiped the tears from his face and peered right at me.
“Christ!” He kicked over the box that once held the letter. I jumped back a step.
“What the fuck Kat!” He was talking to me but yelling in all directions. “What the bloody hell?!”
“Jagger, it’s okay.” I know my words didn’t mean much even before I said them.
“Nothing’s bloody okay! I never looked like my mum. She’s blonde with blue eyes just like Aunt Linda. But my dad, I don’t look like him either.”
I watched Jagger walk over to an old chest of drawers. He removed his cell phone and started quickly typing into it. I hadn’t even noticed he placed it there.
“What are you doing?” He ignored my question. Maybe he was calling Linda. “Jagger, what are you doing?” He looked up and glared at me for a brief second. At least he knew I was still in the room with him. He wiped a tear that leaked from his red eyes and then he went back to typing.
“Fuck!” He yelled.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“I found a bloody picture of Daniel Paul.”
“Okay.”
Jagger flipped the phone screen toward me. I looked from his face into the cell phone screen. “What?”
“LOOK AT HIM!!!” He roared so loud I almost ran out of the room. I stared at the picture and instantly got a chill that made my body shiver in place. I looked back at Jagger and let out a little gasp. I didn’t mean to do it but it just crept out.
“It’s okay.” I couldn’t believe I could say that much.
Before I could think of appropriate words Jagger launched his cell phone across the room. The crashing noise stopped my heart for a second.
“Christ! Bloody Christ! Why didn’t she tell
