She walked into the cafe alone, the picture of perfection in her sensible black heels, perfectly coifed hair and the latest Coach bag slung over her arm; the envy and desire of many. She didn’t feel like she should be envied or desired, she just felt scared and nervous. Her hands trembled as she reached for her wallet and her voice wavered as she ordered her coffee.
After she settled into a spot in the corner, she glanced around at the other tables, keeping her face curtained by her dark hair, hoping no one would recognize her and start a conversation. She wanted, no, needed, to be completely alone for a little while.
She pulled the letter out of her purse and opened it carefully. It was thin and worn from being folded and unfolded so many times and she was truly afraid it would disappear before her very eyes.
Dear Amelia,
I’m sorry.
I’ll love you always,
Peter
The tears welled in her eyes as she sipped her coffee and stared unseeing at the note that she had memorized years ago.
A sudden ring of the bell above the door of the cafe had her blinking back her tears and pulling herself out of her …
Dec 7 2009
