noticed that her feelings seemed to warp the
appearance of the things around her. A week ago she was indifferent about
everything, and the world seemed indifferent to her. On this day, when she felt
misery, she noticed the sagging of the trees, the sorrow in the clouds, and the
bitterness in the breeze. Gloom had permeated every part of her life.
In stopping to take in the sad stage before her, she barely noticed
the white rectangle squarely placed on her door just above eye level or its
rapid flapping caused by the wind. However, she could not fail to notice it
when she turned to close the door and lock the deadbolt, which she did before
she gently pulled down the folded note with two fingers. For a brief, passing
moment, while the paper delicately danced in her hand, she considered crumbling
it up in her hands, never reading the contents. But the jagged “Caitlyn”
written on the front swayed her to tear it off of the door and read it
immediately.
Mon amour,
S'il te plaît, pardonnes moi de t'avoir
blesser .
It was not my intention to hurt you.
It was not my intention to do anything while I was here except escape. Fortune
had a different plan, and she, against the odds, brought us together. I had
forgotten what a caring and compassionate friend you are, and I was happy to
learn how much more you could be.
When we were in college, I never
would have imagined that we would spend time together like we did the past few
days, or that we would have sex all night. You were a friend and nothing more.
But the last ten years have been good to you. Your spark and confidence pulled
me toward you. I couldn't and didn't want to resist. You made me forget why I
came in the first place and made it seem insignificant.
I don't want to leave you, believe
me. I think that I am falling in love with you, and the more time that I spend
with you the more I will be yours. I wish I could wake up every morning and
breathe you in. I wish I could hold you in my arms all night every night. I
wish I could make love to you in the evenings before we go to bed. I want to
take care of you. What I want least, and what I fear is happening, is that you
will not be in my life at all. I lost you once before, and I am not willing to
let you go again.
S'il te plaît . I know that you don't want to, but
I need you to talk to me at least once more before I go. Please meet me at the Nichewaug
Pond at five this evening. I'll be on the south side near the docks.
Fitz
Caitlyn read through the letter three times before putting it away. She had
to drive the mile to Fine and Mellow because she was now running late, and
though her ankle was only the slightest bit tender, she certainly couldn’t jog
on it. It took her a while to justify even going to work. That was the hardest
thing about being her own boss—no one really depended on her. It would be easy
to give into her whims. It would be easy to run off to California for a week
with Michael. The only thing stopping her was the fact that it could ruin her,
but what were the chances she wasn’t already ruined? It drove her forward into
the day, but she knew that there would only be one thing on her mind.
As she made the first cup of coffee that day, she felt elated. Michael
was falling in love with her. All of the negative things she had told herself
were washed away. This time it wasn't just a secret crush with no hope.
Everything about the letter and their time together screamed hope. It was
almost too overwhelming for her.
Later, when the rush of glee had passed with the rush of the early morning,
other feelings arose from the pit of her stomach. When she had read the letter
more carefully the last few time—she had already read it so many times that
there was an indentation of her thumbs on either side of the page and it was
beginning to tear at the fold—she found that even though they both wanted to be
together, it was impossible. He had a life on the other side of the country,
and he had to go
appearance of the things around her. A week ago she was indifferent about
everything, and the world seemed indifferent to her. On this day, when she felt
misery, she noticed the sagging of the trees, the sorrow in the clouds, and the
bitterness in the breeze. Gloom had permeated every part of her life.
In stopping to take in the sad stage before her, she barely noticed
the white rectangle squarely placed on her door just above eye level or its
rapid flapping caused by the wind. However, she could not fail to notice it
when she turned to close the door and lock the deadbolt, which she did before
she gently pulled down the folded note with two fingers. For a brief, passing
moment, while the paper delicately danced in her hand, she considered crumbling
it up in her hands, never reading the contents. But the jagged “Caitlyn”
written on the front swayed her to tear it off of the door and read it
immediately.
Mon amour,
S'il te plaît, pardonnes moi de t'avoir
blesser .
It was not my intention to hurt you.
It was not my intention to do anything while I was here except escape. Fortune
had a different plan, and she, against the odds, brought us together. I had
forgotten what a caring and compassionate friend you are, and I was happy to
learn how much more you could be.
When we were in college, I never
would have imagined that we would spend time together like we did the past few
days, or that we would have sex all night. You were a friend and nothing more.
But the last ten years have been good to you. Your spark and confidence pulled
me toward you. I couldn't and didn't want to resist. You made me forget why I
came in the first place and made it seem insignificant.
I don't want to leave you, believe
me. I think that I am falling in love with you, and the more time that I spend
with you the more I will be yours. I wish I could wake up every morning and
breathe you in. I wish I could hold you in my arms all night every night. I
wish I could make love to you in the evenings before we go to bed. I want to
take care of you. What I want least, and what I fear is happening, is that you
will not be in my life at all. I lost you once before, and I am not willing to
let you go again.
S'il te plaît . I know that you don't want to, but
I need you to talk to me at least once more before I go. Please meet me at the Nichewaug
Pond at five this evening. I'll be on the south side near the docks.
Fitz
Caitlyn read through the letter three times before putting it away. She had
to drive the mile to Fine and Mellow because she was now running late, and
though her ankle was only the slightest bit tender, she certainly couldn’t jog
on it. It took her a while to justify even going to work. That was the hardest
thing about being her own boss—no one really depended on her. It would be easy
to give into her whims. It would be easy to run off to California for a week
with Michael. The only thing stopping her was the fact that it could ruin her,
but what were the chances she wasn’t already ruined? It drove her forward into
the day, but she knew that there would only be one thing on her mind.
As she made the first cup of coffee that day, she felt elated. Michael
was falling in love with her. All of the negative things she had told herself
were washed away. This time it wasn't just a secret crush with no hope.
Everything about the letter and their time together screamed hope. It was
almost too overwhelming for her.
Later, when the rush of glee had passed with the rush of the early morning,
other feelings arose from the pit of her stomach. When she had read the letter
more carefully the last few time—she had already read it so many times that
there was an indentation of her thumbs on either side of the page and it was
beginning to tear at the fold—she found that even though they both wanted to be
together, it was impossible. He had a life on the other side of the country,
and he had to go
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