Love, Utley (Love Letters #1)

MADDOX

The world feels off.

I said good night to Chelsea and Ruth on my way out, thanking them for letting me join the birthday celebration.

I smiled. Acted like I was fine. But it felt like someone else was talking.

And now, behind the wheel of my car, halfway home, nothing feels right.

I take the turns, the streetlamps turning on as darkness settles across the sky, but I don’t see the street in front of me.

She left me a letter.

I can’t stop thinking about it. How it must have felt for her to write that. How terrifying it would have been to get a call like that about her mom.

I just met Ruth, and I already care about her. But to go through that as a twenty-year-old, with all the unknowns.

And the knowns.

I feel nauseous.

Hannah left the library, and then everything changed. She didn’t even need to be told by her mom; she knew that if her mom was in the hospital, she couldn’t afford to stay at school.

She had to drop out that same fucking day so she could go home and work.

And I…

I slow my car as I pull into my driveway.

Anger, like I’ve never felt before, builds around me.

I stop in front of my front steps and put my car in park, but I don’t get out.

This whole time, I thought I was the wronged one. But even if it was all a misunderstanding, my feelings of being abandoned were real. Because Hannah may have written me a letter, but I never got it.

I never said the words out loud to anyone.

You were the only person on campus who knew I existed.

My hands feel unsteady as I pull my phone out of my pocket.

I open my Instagram page, the one with half a million followers, and I type in a name.

Sure enough, there’s a result.

The profile image is small, a woman with a man and two small children. And even though it’s been years, I recognize her.

As I type out my message to her, I can picture that day— fifteen years ago— like it just happened.

We’d just gotten done with practice, and I rushed home to shower and change. My short hair was still damp, and I was jogging across the lawn, heading toward campus, when I saw her.

Essie was walking up the sidewalk toward the Football House, and she lifted her hand, calling out a greeting to me.

I didn’t want to talk to her, but I was early. Hannah wouldn’t get off work for another two hours. I was just heading to the library because I’d rather be near Hannah than anywhere else.

“Hey, Maddox!”

“Hi.”