Less than Perfect by S. J. Evans (love letters to the dead txt) 📕

all the kinds of love so generous it made her life a thousand times more worth living.

MAKING HER WAY up the stone steps leading to the Harper’s front door, Skye was careful not to loosen her death grip on her crutches, afraid that if she so much as let up on it a fraction of an inch she’d lose them in the bitter wind that howled past her. During the past few hours she’d spent inside, it had gotten notably colder outside, and the wind had picked up. A very powerful storm was brewing over the horizon.
As she stepped off the last step, she let out a sigh of relief but still didn’t loosen her grip in the slightest. Her heart was tapping out a restless beat in her chest, and her head spun from the vast amount of effort she had to put into a task as simple as climbing a few steps—but the way she saw it, no task that involved walking was as simple as it had once been.
With a wobble in her careful steps, she hurried as quickly as possible towards the door, desperate for a little coven of shelter. Pressing herself against the cool surface, she tried to catch her fleeting breath. Come on, Skye

, she chided herself. Keep yourself together now. You’ve got to stay strong. Don’t let exhaustion get the better of you. You won’t be good company if you’re half awake.

Taking a deep, calming breath, she tapped her icy knuckles on the door as hard as her tiring body would allow, and took a small, clumsy step back.
Less than a minute later, she could hear the locks on the door being unlocked and unbolted, and she found herself immediately relaxing. Someone was behind that door. And she could only hope it was Rachel—the best friend that she desperately wanted to talk to.
When the door finally squeaked open all of the way, Skye felt a wave of warmth and happiness wash over her body. Calmed by the sight of her dazzling best friend with the long, golden locks of curls she’d always envied, and the kind of sweet smile that could brighten anyone’s day in one mere glance.
“Skye!” Rachel exclaimed, eyes lighting up as she took in her friend’s presence. “What are you doing here? I mean—don’t get me wrong, it’s great

to see you—but I just didn’t expect to see you here

, at my house.”
Skye used the support of her crutches to hold her up while she answered her friend. “Well, since I haven’t seen or talked to you in the past few days, I wanted to check in and see how you were doing. And you weren’t answering any of my phone calls, so I just decided to drop by. I hope I’m not interrupting anything, though; I don’t want to be any trouble.” Her lips twitched in a small smile.
Rachel’s fingers fidgeted with the lace trim of her sleeve that hung just above her elbow, and she giggled sweetly. “You’re never any trouble, Skye. You’re my best friend, and you’re free to drop by anytime—as long as you don’t interrupt my beauty sleep, that is.” With a quick wave of her hand, she’d managed to discard any traces of unease left in Skye’s body. “And about the phone calls, I lost my cell to police custody and the new one hasn’t arrived yet. Plus, my parents haven’t been screening calls when I’m gone—and as you very well know, I never answer the home phone anyways—so if you left any messages on that line, that’s why I didn’t get them.”
“Oh,” Skye mumbled, taking the words in. Part of her found it a little odd that Rachel hadn’t called her at all, but the other didn’t want to press it. She was going through a lot, too, and even though they may be best friends, there was no rule that said they had

to talk to each other about everything. If she’d wanted to talk, she would have picked up the phone and dialed her number. And Skye understood that. “I guess I’m lucky I caught you here, then.”
“You bet!” Rachel’s smile grew, showing her pearly whites. “Come on, let’s go inside,” Rachel said after a moment of silence, waving her hand towards the wide open front door. “We can hang out and talk, if you’d like.”
“’Kay, sounds great.” Skye nodded, and clutched onto her crutches’ handles tightly, prepared to fight against the overbearing wind that struck her most when she was walking. After covering the space between her and the entrance to the house in a few long, tedious moments, she looked at Rachel apologetically. “Sorry. I’m a little slow at the moment.”
“Don’t apologize, Skye,” Rachel said around a giggle, scooting behind Skye to close the door. “It’s not like crutches are good buddies to have.”
Skye scoffed, “Definitely not.”
“Are you hungry or thirsty, at all? We’ve got plenty of options.”
Skye shook her head, and smiled warmly at her friend. “No thanks. Leah and I had lunch a little while ago.”
“Kind of late, don’t you think?” Rachel’s voice carried her famous lilt of teasing in it. “Although, I guess I did just offer you food . . . so I really shouldn’t be talking.” She winked playfully before prancing past the entryway to the kitchen on their left, and heading towards the door of her bedroom—a room almost as familiar to Skye as her own. She couldn’t even count how many times she’d been in it over the long years of the girl’s friendship.
“Hey, hold up,” Skye called softly, caught up in the recollections of silly childhood memories. “I know I’m walking as slow as your father after Thanksgiving dinner, but I can’t help it.” Despite the seriousness of her tone, she giggled at the thought of Rachel’s heavy-set father teasing everyone after dinner each Thanksgiving that he was carrying a rather large, late baby.
Rachel stopped at her bedroom’s whitewood door, and narrowed her brows at Skye. She scrutinized her friend until she’d caught up to her, and with her head cocked to the side, she gasped in mock horror. “Skye! Don’t tell me you’re pregnant! Did Jules . . . persuade

you? ‘Cause I’ll kill him!”
Skye guffawed at the absurdity of Rachel’s little joke. “Rachel!” she squealed, stifling laughter and slapping her friend’s arm playfully. “Behave yourself! You know I am not

pregnant! So hush.”
Rachel’s soft laughter carried in her wake as she shrugged, opened the door to her bedroom, and scurried over to the bed, dropping herself against the soft, fluffy mattress. She turned to watch Skye as she wobbled into the room, and grinned when her gaze lingered over her face. “You’re blushing.” Her eyes wiggled tauntingly. “Are you thinking about him

?”
Skye stopped in her tracks, only a few feet away from the bed, and feigned innocence. Or at least, she hoped she looked innocent; she didn’t want Rachel to know that she had

in fact been thinking about Jules, simply from the mere mention of his name. “Who?” Her voice cracked, and she slapped herself mentally for sounding so guilty. Clearing her throat, she ignored the heat that coursed through her veins at the images of Jules running through her mind, and tried again. “Who? Your dad at Thanksgiving?”
Rachel made a face at her. “You know who, Skye,” she said deviously, grinning wider, “don’t try to play innocent. It’s written all over your face who you’re thinking about.” Her voice took on a sultry edge as she whispered, “Jules

.”
Skye felt her cheeks go hot, and when she found herself thinking about him

and his little surprise she had spent most of the afternoon torturing herself with, her insides went week and she had to catch herself with the support of her crutches. Her palms were sweaty, her skin hot, and she suddenly felt embarrassed to be so flustered in the company of her best friend, all because of a boy

.
Sighing in defeat, she managed to crutch her way over to the side of the bed and sit down, with her heart beating a mile a minute and her head reeling in memories where Jules was the star. “So you got me. I was thinking about Jules.”
“I knew it!” Rachel squealed, shooting up into a sitting position and jumping up and down like an excited child. “I knew you were thinking about him! Heck—it was all part of my plan. I wanted

to see you all hot and bothered, so that’s why I brought him up. You’re quite the riot, all right.”
“Oh, hush,” Skye mumbled, bumping shoulders with Rachel. “I’m not all hot and bothered.”
Rachel scoffed. “Sure you aren’t,” she said sarcastically, shaking her blonde head. “Skye, he’s your boyfriend

, you love

him, there’s no need for you to be embarrassed about how you’re feeling right now. It’s only natural.”
Skye smiled at that, her knotted up stomach relaxing, and before she could stop herself, she said softly, “Did you ever feel that way when you were with Victor?”
Rachel’s smile faltered. “Yes,” she admitted, choking on the word a little. “Some of the time. I mean—I always felt a strong connection with him, but at the same time, there was always something that warned me to stay away. Of course, being me, I loved how mysterious he was and jumped at the chance to be with him. Now I just wish I’d never fallen for him at all.” She sighed heavily, falling back down onto her back. “I still don’t know if I ever loved him. I do know that I still miss him—even after all the crap he put me through—but whether or not I ever loved him . . . I don’t know.”
Skye’s heart ached to comfort her friend, to heal the brokenness left by a man who’d always had other intensions, and very carefully, she pushed herself down on her back and focused her attention on Rachel. “I’m so sorry for everything he put you through,” she said softly. “You never deserved to be treated the way you were. It wasn’t your fault in any way, and you deserve better, Rachel.” She offered a small smile. “And even though it may take a while to get over him, I know you’ll get through this. ‘Cause you’re the strongest person I know, and you’d never let one stupid guy get you down. If he couldn’t see how amazing you are, then that’s his loss. You don’t need him.”
Rachel chuckled, but her eyes watered and a couple tears rolled down her cheeks. “You’re such a good friend, Skye,” she said, turning to look at Skye. “Thank you for that. I just hope that maybe someday I’ll find a guy who can love me like Jules loves you, and I can love him back just the same.”
Skye’s heavy heart lightened at the small smile on her friend’s face. “You will,” she promised. “I know you will.”
“Thanks.” Wiping the tears from her face, she let out a quiet spill of laughter, and sat up, shaking her head.