Page 50 of Resolutions

Still pacing, I wring my hands. The weight of the past month threatens to choke me. I must take a deep breath. She waits for me to exhale.

“In your letter you said-”

“Letter?” I freeze mid-step, spinning to face her.

“What do you mean?”

“What letter are you talking about?”

“The one you left at the wedding. The boys found it under your bouquet when they searched the ready room after Cameron spoke to you.”

As if the room had been cast in blinding light, I realize Michael played everyone. “That bastard. That fucking asshole!” I resume pacing, faster now, anger fueling each step. “Of course,” I fling my arms out. “Of course, that stupidly brilliant prick left a note. Why didn't I think of that? That fucking bastard wrote something and claimed it was from me.” I grip the back of a chair. “Let me guess, it was typed?”

“Yes, it was typed.” Confusion clouds her face.

“You ass! Typed so no one could verify my handwriting. He thought of everything!” I throw my hands up, continuing to pace. “What did it say? No, don't tell me, let me guess." I make air quotes. "Dear Cameron, I can't go through with the wedding. My heart isn't in it. I don't love you like I thought. Don't try to find me.“

“Close. You, or rather, the note, said you needed time alone, that you didn't want to be tied to someone you didn't love.”

“Son of a bitch! That piece of shit told Cameron I didn't love him! Oh, that fucking little-” I catch Evelyn's throat clear and I stop abruptly, suddenly remembering her presence.

“I can see you're angry at someone. Perhaps, let's set aside your colorful language for a moment.” Her eyes narrow. “Who is he? Who are you talking about?”

I close my eyes, take the deepest breath I can hold and hold it as long as I can, then let it out slowly. When I look at her again, I see all the pieces starting to click into place behind her eyes.

Chapter 25

Melanie

She could have stormed in here ready to fight. Instead, she's been supportive and comforting. Her normal, motherly way is making my chest ache. I have to tell her. I have to show her. But how do I make her understand she can't tell anyone? Especially Cameron?

My hands tremble as I walk to my work desk and open the bottom drawer. The mountain-thick manila folder feels heavy with more than just paper as I return to the table.

“Evelyn,” my voice catches as I clutch the folder to my chest like it's the most precious thing I own. Because, honestly, other than Moses, it is. “I want to show you something, but I need you to promise you won't breathe a word of this to anyone. Especially not Cameron. Can you promise me? Promise that no one will know?” I hold my breath, waiting.

“Melanie, dear, you're shaking.” She reaches for my hand and I jerk back instinctively. The hurt in her eyes makes me hate myself a little.

“I'm sorry. The effect of constant fear does things to you.”

“Constant fear?” Her face pales. “Mel, I don't understand, but I want to. I need to.”

“I'll tell you, but not before you promise me you won't tell anyone what I'm about to show you. I know you're a woman of your word.” Tears blur my vision. “Promise, and I'll show you what's had me sobbing on the floor, what's kept me hiding in disguise, what has me throwing up most mornings from stress. What's consumed me.” My voice breaks. “Please. I need to tell someone I can trust and I trust you.”

“Honey, you're scaring me. I don't know if I can promise never to tell anyone. But, I can promise not to say anything unless I believe it's a matter of life or death. Will that work?”

Swallowing, “but this is a matter of life or death.” I tighten my arms around the file. “If he finds out bad things are going to happen.” I close my eyes and see my mom bobbing in the water. “Horrific things.”

“Melanie.” She waits for me to open my eyes and look at her. “Is what's in that folder the reason you ran away?” She asks, looking from me to the folder and back.

“Yes. But I'm scared to share it. He's everywhere. I know you don't believe me, but when I explain, you'll understand. I'm just frightened he'll find me.”

Evelyn sits up straight and puts her hand across her heart. “Alright Melanie, you trust me so I'll trust you. I promise I won't tell unless you tell me it's okay.”

I considered her reply for a long moment. “Okay, thank you.” With trembling fingers, I take my seat and slide the folder across to her. It feels like pushing away a piece of myself.

Her hands hesitate before opening it. She flips the cover open and scans the first page. “Help me understand what I'm looking at.”

“You're looking at my personal hell from the time I got the box.”

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