Page 59 of Sweet Somethings

I can't marry him. I won't marry him. I don't love him. Marriage can't be about money, about union of families, about business, about who's right on paper. It has to be about love.

I'm willing to fight for you, for us, but where are you? You have to fight with me. We can do this together. We can have what we want. I know we can.

She looked up. "The notes are getting shorter, more desperate. Even her handwriting looks scared." She turned the note toward Roman so he could see it. "Don't you think?"

"I don't know. It looks like words to me."

"The first few notes were much more descriptive." She looked into the box. "Two more to go."

"I'm on the edge of my seat."

Oh, my Love,

How I long for you. My heart aches. I didn't know that love could be so consuming. It's in the air I breathe. It inhabits my dreams. It makes me thirsty and ravenous, but nothing will fill the emptiness inside of me. I feel all is lost.

And then I see you again. You're across the street. You look so handsome. I can't quite believe how long it's been since I saw you.

You smile, that half-smile, the one that makes my nerves tingle, the one that makes me believe you love me, too, no matter what you say, what you do.

You tip your head. That small acknowledgment makes my heart pound against my chest.

And then you turn away.

I have seen your back so many times. I yearn to call your name. But I can't.

I'm such a coward. I wish I could be braver.

One day…

"One day what?" Roman asked impatiently.

"That's it. It just ends with three dots."

"Well, let's read the last one. I hope this story has an ending."

"I don't think she wrote these notes as if she were putting a book together," she said, but she kind of hoped there was a happy ending, too. "Last one, here goes."

My Dearest Love

I did it. I ran away from the marriage I didn’t want and from the man I didn't love. But when I got to your house, I heard you had left town.

My heart broke in two. I had left it too late. I should have told you that I wouldn't go through with it, that I would find a way to say no, to be with you and not with him.

Now it's too late. You've chosen another life. I must let you go.

I want you to be happy. I want you to have children, to love and be loved. I want you to live the life you were meant to lead.

But in the dark of the night, I want you to remember me, the way we loved each other, the passion of a youth I'll never forget. I know it's my fault. I was too afraid to speak. I've never even been able to send you these letters. I want to. I can see the mailbox from my window.

Dare I go out there and at least let you know how I've always felt? Will that make you happy? Or will it make you sad and angry?

I wish I knew the answer.

Good-bye, my love.

"I'm going to cry," she said with a sniff. "This is not the happy ending I wanted."

"It's real life," Roman said, as she dabbed at her eyes with the napkin. "Not everyone gets what they want."

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