Page 47 of By the Letter

I nodded in agreement to avoid arguing. I’d simply order a bed tomorrow and tell Roman via text I had it covered. It was much easier for me to be assertive when he wasn’t looming over me and I didn’t have to see his carved-from-granite frown.

The pizza came soon after that. The two of us settled in my dining room, and Roman served me two slices before taking two for himself. He also made me sit down while he got us glasses of ice water.

“First dinner at my new house.”

“Congrats. Shira.” Roman raised his glass and tipped it toward mine. I picked mine up and clinked it against his.

“Cheers.”

“Cheers to new beginnings.” He put his glass down carefully and peered at me, a thoughtful furrow to his brow. “Hopefully we can start anew too. Today, I realized I never really apologized to you for how I treated you when we were working together.”

“It’s all right. It was just business.” I shouldn’t have been excusing his behavior. It hadn’t been all right in the least. But I had this knee-jerk reflex to smooth over conflict, even to my detriment.Oftento my detriment. Years of therapy hadn’t cured me of it. I didn’t know what would—if anything.

“No, it isn’t.” He leaned forward, watching me carefully. “This afternoon, I passed Mike Dietrich on my way to my office. I had some quick budgetary things to discuss with him, so naturally, I stopped him.”

I ripped the crust off my pizza to keep from cringing. Mike didnotlike making chitchat in the halls.

Roman went on. “When I returned to my desk a few minutes later, Mike sent me a message. Do you know what it said?” I shook my head, though I had an idea. “He said, and I quote, ‘I would like to go back to the way Shira handled things. From now on, please confine your questions to scheduled meetings or chats through the messaging app.’ I saw you hide from him and decided it was because you didn’t want to talk to him, but you did it for him, didn’t you?”

I nodded, still tearing at my crust. “Mike is a genius at numbers, but he’s not a people person.”

“You couldn’t have told me that?” he asked as gently as he was capable—which wasn’t very gentle and lined with gruffness, but the effort set me at ease.

“No, Roman. After you lectured me on ignoring everyone in the office and having no connection to the employees, I didn’t feel like I could tell you anything.”

His nod was heavy and slow. “I did say that. Then I asked you if Frank had ever meant anything to you. What a bastard I was.” He hung his head in his hands and groaned. “I screwed this all up. I’m sorry, Shira. I really am.”

“Okay.”

My pizza was in a pile, nothing left to shred, but with my stomach a mess of nerves, it wasn’t like I’d be eating it anyway.

He looked up, and I was shocked to see how ruddy his cheeks were. “Since I understand what it means to be born into wealth and privilege, I have tried my best not to be an asshole. But I really failed here, huh?”

I worried my bottom lip with my teeth, only nodding slightly in response.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Those letters Frank had sent me meant a lot. I’d convinced myself I was doing right by him, but holy hell was I blind.”

My stomach bottomed out. The damn letters. It always came back to them. Letting this go on for another second longer didn’t feel right. Roman was being honest and laying it all on the line, so it was time I did too.

“Roman, since we’re starting fresh—”

He pinned his gaze on me as he leaned in halfway over the table. I had to look down at the napkin in my lap in order to free my confession from the confines of the vault in the back of my throat.

“—Frank didn’t write those letters. I did.”

Chapter Seventeen

Roman

What?

What?

WHAT?!

Five letters. All at pivotal times in my life. Frank Goldman and I hadn’t been pen pals, but we’d exchanged important words—words I’d taken and used to guide me on my next steps. And now…what?

“I’m sorry,” Shira rushed out. “The first time you wrote to him, I showed him the letter, but he was busy and asked me to reply for him. He just wanted me to send his condolences, but I felt…I couldn’t leave it at that. You seemed lost, and so was I, I guess. My mother had died a few months before, and Frank had beenthere for me, so I decided to channel him a little and be there for you.”

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