20 Years

Untitled Part 1

Yellowed paper. It was such an odd thing to find on the desk of her daughter. The paper was peeking out from a stack of notepads and textbooks, poorly and hurriedly hidden in plain sight. There was no telling how long the paper had sat hidden in the stack.

Jade carefully pulled the paper out from between two textbooks and smiled as it was revealed to be an envelope with familiar penmanship on the front. The envelope was torn raggedly across the top, the stamp ripped in half in the rush to get the envelope open when it had been received.

Jade pulled the letter from inside and smiled at the well worn paper, it was a little dirty and the edges of the paper were a dingy white. She took a seat on the bed as she unfolded the letter. The words were slightly smudged from the amount of times the letter had been unfolded, read and refolded. The paper felt soft to the touch instead of crisp, the edges seemed to wilt instead of holding their shape.

It was surreal to remember that paper had once been her lifeline. It hadn't been phone calls or visits, though those had been reassuring when they were allowed. Letters had been when they could truly talk, when he didn't have to maintain an image, when there weren't eyes on them to judge and scrutinize every move. Letters had been irrevocable proof that what they had wasn't one sided.

In her hands was the first letter she had received; the first of many over the course of three years, but this one had always been her favorite. The first letter had represented so many things and over the course of those three years, when she'd had her doubts, this was the letter she read and reread. It reminded her of everything she saw in him, the reasons she had willingly strapped herself to him knowing it was going to be a rough ride.

Dear Jade,

I've only done this one time before and it was only to let Ma know where I had ended up. I don't know what I'm doing. What am I supposed to write? There isn't much to write about. I guess that's a good thing. I would have called but it will be a couple weeks before I'll have access to a phone. I know you're worrying, stop. I've always known the risks of what I was doing, this time I know what to expect and I'm not alone. The club has my back and Kozik has yours. Call him if you need anything.

Hap

The letter wasn't even a full page but it was more than she had ever expected. Hap was a man of few words and getting a letter at all had been enough to make her heart flutter. She'd saved the letter, not expecting that she would receive another. She'd saved every letter he sent her. They laid together in a small shoe box in the top of her closet, in order of when she had received them. They chronicled their time apart and remained a hidden symbol of his love that she could revisit any time she wanted.

She didn't know why the box had been rifled through or when the letter had gone missing, she hadn't revisited the letters in a long time. She didn't mind that the letters had been found, she just wished she had been asked before the letter had been taken. Jade replaced the letter in the envelope and returned it to its hiding place among the stack of textbooks before heading to her own bedroom.

Jade pulled out the shoebox containing the rest of the letters. She hadn't read them in some time, not needing their comfort when Hap laid his head in their bed most nights. Having him in sight but out of reach had been frustrating and Jade had hated every moment of those three years he was out of reach. Thinking back as she pulled the letters from the box, Jade knew the man that had written these letters was nearly unrecognizable in the man that came home to her.

The man she had met and fallen in love with nearly 20 years ago was different, harder. Hap had worn his kutte as a mask, as a symbol of his identity. The club had become his life and he thought he was nothing without it. Now the man that shared her bed was still hard and rough around the edges but he shed the kutte when he walked through the door and he allowed himself to be softer, to relax in a way that he never could before.

Jade slowly read her way through the shoebox, allowing herself a small amount of nostalgia as she read Hap's letters. She didn't know how many walls he had forced himself to let down to allow himself to write to her like this. She knew this revealed a weakness and Hap wasn't the kind to take revealing such a thing lightly. As much as she'd hated this time in her life she would never be able to hate the level of emotional intimacy it had unlocked when they'd had so few other methods of communication.

As Jade pulled out the last of the letters from the box, two pictures that had been tucked between the letters and the side of the box fell face down in the bottom. Jade set aside the letters and pulled out the photos. The first photo was taken the day he'd returned home, she was sitting on his lap at the clubhouse. She was smiling happily while Hap looked stoically at the camera, despite that she could tell he had been just as happy as she was. Though he wasn't smiling, he wasn't scowling, his shoulders were relaxed and his arm had been wrapped loosely around her waist.

The sight of the dark hair on his head was enough to make Jade chuckle. During those three years had been the only time she'd seen him with more than stubble on his scalp and its presence had irritated Hap endlessly till he returned home. She remembered that he'd shaved it the next morning, scowling as he'd washed the remnants down the sink drain. This photo was likely the only picture outside of childhood that existed of Hap with hair.

The second photo was of Hap hugging a toddler, their Nora. Hap's eyes were closed as he clutched their daughter to his chest. The little girl's arms were wrapped tightly around Hap's neck, her face pressed against Hap's chest. Their first real hug. Jade remembered the tears that had swelled in her eyes as Hap had finally been able to hug their child, to feel and show the affection he'd been forced to refrain from. The tears had made it hard to see as she'd clicked the picture.

Jade put the letters back in the showbox, returning it to the shelf in the closet before collecting the two photos from the bed and walked back to her daughter's bedroom. Jade set the pictures on the top of the stack of textbooks and picked up a notepad and pen.

If you ever want to see more photos or letters, let me know.

Love, Mom

Jade wrapped the note around the photos and left the room. Nora was a lot like her father, reserved in her emotions but secretly sentimental, Jade had no doubt that Nora would take her up on the offer. Maybe not today or tomorrow, maybe twenty years from now, but she would.