ALONE IN MY apartment, a place that has become my safe haven where being alone wasn’t so lonely. I propped Shane’s letter against an old coffee mug on the kitchen island. I stared at it for hours, held it up to the ceiling light, pulled just enough on the edge to see how easy it was to open, then dropped it back on the counter.
I’d just spent the last six months working so hard on letting go of who I was. Left California and uprooted my life to get as comfortably far away from my past as I could. What if his letter hammered me back into my past? Whether I was crazy for not ripping into it or cynical for being terrified of what it might say, I knew one thing for sure, whatever it said, good or bad, I had to be in the right mindset to read it. It sounded ludicrous, struggling with what to do, but it was huge for me. There was no way I could handle his rejection.
“Bite the bullet then, Rose. Pick up the fucking letter, rip it open and just as if you’re tearing off a Band-Aid, deal with the immediate pain. It’s easier that way, deal with it so you can move the fuck on!” I huffed out loud.
I’d rather drown in the moment of truth, than spend my life swimming in a lie.
It wasn’t lost on me that I didn’t have anyone there to rip the letter open for me. “One . . . two . . . three,” I mumbled as if the numbers had all the power in the world to change my mind.
Briggs had said, “He hopes you understand.” What the hell did I need to understand?
I’d waited a half of a year, an eternity to the impatient, and a lifetime to a kid. In a blink of an eye, a mere six months and my world could be destroyed by what he had written on these pages. I unfolded the letter, fear pecked at my heart.
Complicated Captivating Rose,
I keep writing and rewriting this letter. I know I promised you I’d give you space. I just need to know if you’re okay? Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you being alone and trying to find yourself. God knows, I look for you in the faces of people every day. I keep searching for you in the words I hear, in the memories I have, even the broken sidewalks where you’ve left your past. I cling to small pieces of you while I walk past the restaurants where we’ve made memories, hoping to find anything that would bring you back to me, but it never does.
I want you to know that you’ve ruined my appetite for Cajun food. I can’t even go near a Cajun restaurant anymore. I’m not starving myself, I’m just not enjoying the foods that remind me of you.
Anyway, after you left I went and found Briggs downtown, hoping he might have answers. Every time I’d ask about you, he’d say he didn’t have anything. Five months and Briggs’ answers stayed the same, he wouldn’t crack, (I think he’s getting pissed at me for asking, so I’ve backed off a little). Instead of finding him every night, I ask him twice a week, now just once every couple of weeks. He’s the only connection I have to you, and if there’s the slightest chance he’d be willing to tell me you’re okay, I’m going to jump on it. He’s the only Key I have to you, (funny, to find out that you call him Key).
Rose, I know I pushed you in a corner that day and it wasn’t fair of me. I let my own past and fear rule over me. I’m sorry if I caused you more problems, it was never my intention. I just felt like I couldn’t breathe without knowing you were breathing the same air. I wanted to be that someone who meant the world to you, the one person who broke through the walls you put up to protect yourself. It’s so damn hard to admit I was scared to lose what little part of you I had.
Now that I’ve spent some time thinking about it, I can admit, you were right. Yes, I struggled with your profession. Every egotistical part of me wrestled with the thought of any other man touching you without concern for your well-being. I guess I was jealous as fuck, because I wanted you. But I knew that if I tried to push you or control you, you’d resist and I’d lose you forever. And I don’t want a forever where you aren’t in it.
All I’ve ever wanted to do was to protect you, save you from a life that continued to break you, be the one you’d run to when your life was crumbling. I understand now, that that’s not what you were asking me to be. I’ve had almost six months to become the type of man I should be for you. I realize how hard it is for you to need someone, to put your trust in a person who has the power to hurt you. But I need you to know, I won’t hurt you, Rose.