Page 129 of David's Love

The letter ’N’ from Ned, I supposed, starts popping up more often.

Ned came home. They caught up on things. They ate at a dinner.

This portion of her list doesn’t read like a confession. More like admitting that she’s moving on. Or trying something different.

There is no sorrowful contemplative commentary of any kind. It’s only the recording of the events in a pragmatic fashion.

I let out a sigh.

Her list seems unfinished, although I’m sure it made perfect sense to her.

Frustrated, I reach inside and find the letters he wrote to her. I can’t read those. As much as I want to learn more about him, I don’t want to put myself through it.

Besides, this is their sanctuary. The sacred story that belongs to them.

He was different then, and so was she.

He sent her those letters without the expectation that one day, a woman from the future, someone other than Anna, would read them as well.

These letters are off-limits. But something else falls from the bunch, and that looks like a different kind of letter.

The paper is different.

This was written on a sheet of vintage looking paper, something you’d find at the stationery store.

The paper is thicker and has a nice warm yellow tinge to it. I unfold it and start to read.

‘Dear David,

You will never readthis letter.

It will never find its way to you.

It was never meant for you.

I’m writing it for myself.

I’m writing it to make peace with myself.

I’m writing it to admit in front of the universe what I should’ve told you in person that night.

You are and will always be the only man I’ve ever loved.

How do I know that?

I just know.

The same way I knew about Julie.

You don’t know Julie, but she is the biggest wonder of all.

She is the immense gift the universe has given me.

I love her with all my heart. And Ned loves her, too, but he doesn’t know the whole story.

He doesn’t know what we both know about that night when he was waiting outside while I was supposed to break up with you, and you were supposed to hate me.

You hated me.

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