powers that be for her lack of courage earlier and opened her purse prepared to shred the new letter she’d written him into a million tiny pieces. It wasn’t there.
Hadley mentally retraced her steps. She recalled setting it on the ledge by the mailboxes. As fast as her feet would move, Hadley sprinted down the stairwell to the mailboxes. It was gone.
Someone must have found it sitting on the ledge and slipped it in the outgoing slot. In a short time, Miller would receive another letter Hadley never intended to mail. There wasn’t a solitary thing Hadley could do about it. Nausea swirled in her gut, threatening to bring up today’s lunch. Dr. LeClair may not believe it, but the universe definitely hated her.
She went back to her apartment and checked the trash in vain to see if she accidently threw the letter out with the junk mail. No such luck. She’d opened her heart to a man ultimately no different than Harold Duwatski. She wondered if all men were alike, if testosterone guided all of them to perversion. Even Mac had told her all guys were tramps. She thought about her conversation with her neighbor and her hopes of love being within her grasp and realized what an enormous cloud her head had been stuck in. Real love touched a blessed few, and Hadley had been cursed to live life alone. She wasn’t worthy of a love like the St. Armonts shared.
In all honesty, Miller wrote what all men wanted from her, dirty sex with no feelings attached—a meaningless fuck. What annoyed Hadley most was knowing his offer was all she deserved. She had been a fool to think she might be worth more, and her ignorance made her furious.
Red with anger and hatred, Hadley pulled out a pen and wrote Miller another letter. He might receive the letter where she swooned over him, like a teenager deep in puppy love, but this one would follow and set him straight. Standing up for herself was new, but she liked the rush it delivered. She may not be worthy of love, but she was done being a doormat for men.
Dear Mr. Genetti,
You obviously have me confused with one of the many women that bow down at your feet and adorn your bed nightly. We will not be “paper fucking”, having “letter sex”, or any other kind of sexual relations. I am attracted to you, I admit. But, I only wanted to get to know you, and judging by your vile letter, you're a PIG I would prefer not to associate with at all! Honestly, I wrote you, but I never mailed the letter. Someone else did. Take your offer of meaningless sex and shove it up your smug ass!
Not so sincerely,
Ms. Walker
To quell her frustrations, Hadley emptied an entire tub of Nutella before bed.
Tuesday morning, Hadley marched into Dr. LeClair’s office. She rudely tossed Miller’s letter onto his desk. With an amused grin, the therapist picked up the letter in one hand and with the other gestured for her to have a seat. He steadied his reading glasses over the bridge of his nose.
Neither doctor nor patient spoke while the letter was read. Dr. LeClair removed his glasses before rubbing his eyes. He released a long drawn out sigh. Curious that Hadley received a reply to a letter she claimed to have never sent, he said, “I thought you never mailed him a letter.”
Hadley pulled her gaze from the ceiling to glare at him. “I didn’t!”
His patient’s short and angry answer didn’t explain how it ended up with Mr. Genetti, but given it didn’t seem to be the issue she had, Dr. LeClair allowed his curiosity to be forgotten. He looked across the desk, waiting for her to comment. With confidence, he knew they were about to engage in a hefty argument over the letter. When she stayed silent, he leaned forward and calmly said, “Would you like to discuss how the letter made you feel?”
“How the hell do you think it made me feel?” Hadley fumed.
“Well, you’re clearly angry.”
“Of course, I’m angry.” She slammed a hand onto his desk. “Furious, actually!”
“Why is
Hadley mentally retraced her steps. She recalled setting it on the ledge by the mailboxes. As fast as her feet would move, Hadley sprinted down the stairwell to the mailboxes. It was gone.
Someone must have found it sitting on the ledge and slipped it in the outgoing slot. In a short time, Miller would receive another letter Hadley never intended to mail. There wasn’t a solitary thing Hadley could do about it. Nausea swirled in her gut, threatening to bring up today’s lunch. Dr. LeClair may not believe it, but the universe definitely hated her.
She went back to her apartment and checked the trash in vain to see if she accidently threw the letter out with the junk mail. No such luck. She’d opened her heart to a man ultimately no different than Harold Duwatski. She wondered if all men were alike, if testosterone guided all of them to perversion. Even Mac had told her all guys were tramps. She thought about her conversation with her neighbor and her hopes of love being within her grasp and realized what an enormous cloud her head had been stuck in. Real love touched a blessed few, and Hadley had been cursed to live life alone. She wasn’t worthy of a love like the St. Armonts shared.
In all honesty, Miller wrote what all men wanted from her, dirty sex with no feelings attached—a meaningless fuck. What annoyed Hadley most was knowing his offer was all she deserved. She had been a fool to think she might be worth more, and her ignorance made her furious.
Red with anger and hatred, Hadley pulled out a pen and wrote Miller another letter. He might receive the letter where she swooned over him, like a teenager deep in puppy love, but this one would follow and set him straight. Standing up for herself was new, but she liked the rush it delivered. She may not be worthy of love, but she was done being a doormat for men.
Dear Mr. Genetti,
You obviously have me confused with one of the many women that bow down at your feet and adorn your bed nightly. We will not be “paper fucking”, having “letter sex”, or any other kind of sexual relations. I am attracted to you, I admit. But, I only wanted to get to know you, and judging by your vile letter, you're a PIG I would prefer not to associate with at all! Honestly, I wrote you, but I never mailed the letter. Someone else did. Take your offer of meaningless sex and shove it up your smug ass!
Not so sincerely,
Ms. Walker
To quell her frustrations, Hadley emptied an entire tub of Nutella before bed.
Tuesday morning, Hadley marched into Dr. LeClair’s office. She rudely tossed Miller’s letter onto his desk. With an amused grin, the therapist picked up the letter in one hand and with the other gestured for her to have a seat. He steadied his reading glasses over the bridge of his nose.
Neither doctor nor patient spoke while the letter was read. Dr. LeClair removed his glasses before rubbing his eyes. He released a long drawn out sigh. Curious that Hadley received a reply to a letter she claimed to have never sent, he said, “I thought you never mailed him a letter.”
Hadley pulled her gaze from the ceiling to glare at him. “I didn’t!”
His patient’s short and angry answer didn’t explain how it ended up with Mr. Genetti, but given it didn’t seem to be the issue she had, Dr. LeClair allowed his curiosity to be forgotten. He looked across the desk, waiting for her to comment. With confidence, he knew they were about to engage in a hefty argument over the letter. When she stayed silent, he leaned forward and calmly said, “Would you like to discuss how the letter made you feel?”
“How the hell do you think it made me feel?” Hadley fumed.
“Well, you’re clearly angry.”
“Of course, I’m angry.” She slammed a hand onto his desk. “Furious, actually!”
“Why is
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