Page 3 of Sloane

I was finally going to know what she looked like—this woman I’d slowly been falling for through her cards and letters.

My hands shook as I cut the tape that sealed the box. Inside were the usual thoughtful things she’d send with each package: socks, sunblock, lip balm, batteries, cookies in a resealable bag then wrapped in bubble wrap, along with other items that I didn’t register as I removed them in search of what I was looking for.

Finally, at the bottom of the box were two envelopes. One I recognized immediately as the pink stationary she wrote her letters on, and the other was a plain white envelope with a yellow Post It note on the front that read, “I hope we can still at least continue to write each other.”

WTF?

Sliding my index finger along the back flap, I opened the envelope and pulled out her picture then sucked in a deep breath. She was stunning.

Her long brown hair looked like silk as it fell below her shoulders, and I flexed my fingers as I imagined what it would feel like in my hands.

Her button nose was perfect. And her full, pink, glossy lips were just begging to be kissed. And her smile… it was just like I imagined—warm and inviting.

Studying the photo, I tried to determine if her round eyes were green or hazel. It looked like she had a port wine stain birthmark along her temple that ran under her right eye.

Was that what she was worried about?

If so, I was going to have to make sure she knew I thought her imperfection only made her more beautiful.

God, I couldn’t wait to hold her in my arms.

Thanksgiving couldn’t get here fast enough.

In the meantime, I’d lay on my cot and daydream about a future that included waking up to my dream girl every morning instead of waiting impatiently for her letters to arrive.

Chapter Two

Ashley

“I shouldn’t have sent him that photo.” I sighed as I sat on my best friend’s couch, hugging a floral throw pillow against my chest. “I know better than to have sent a candid shot. I should have sent one where I was wearing makeup and hiding this.” I pointed to the port-wine stain on my face. “I just didn’t want to give him the wrong idea about who I am, you know? But I’m sure he took one look at my picture and was like, ‘Oh, hell no’.” Dramatically flopping to my side with a groan, I continued, “I don’t know what I was thinking. He’ll never go for a girl like me. I’m stupid to even think I have a chance.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Tammy said as she sat down next to me. With narrowed eyes, she asked, “What do you mean, a girl like you?”

“Come on, Tam. You’ve been my best friend for ten years, you know my birthmark turns people off. Why do you think I’ve never had a boyfriend?”

Hell, I hadn’t even been able to give away my virginity to horny boys in high school. Sure, they’d been nice enough to me—just no one had wanted to date me.

It wasn’t until college, when I discovered amazing makeup that covered the offending mark on my face, that I’d been able to date a guy long enough to lose my virginal status. Then I snuck out in the middle of the night before my makeup wore off. Inevitably though, he saw my bare face and suddenly he needed to spend more time studying. The next guy had a grandma who got really sick, and the third one decided he just wasn’t ready for a relationship after all.

They’d always had a reason to break things off after seeing me without makeup.

One guy at the pool, who I didn’t even know, asked me why my parents hadn’t “fixed my face” when I was younger.

I was still pissed that I’d felt compelled to explain to him that my single mom hadn’t been able to afford the laser treatments necessary to “fix my face”.

I never went swimming at the community pool again.

That’s why I’d sent Sloane the photo without makeup. I wanted him to know upfront what he was getting into.

Letting Sloane get to know the real me had been easy. I hadn’t had to worry about how I looked when I wrote my letters. The second things got flirty between us, I should have shut that down. Instead, I went full steam ahead, and now that I’d sent my picture to him, I was having second and third thoughts.

Tammy answered my question with a shove to the shoulder. “Probably because you’ve only dated losers in the past. You’re beautiful. If Sloane’s as great as you say he is, your birthmark won’t matter.”

“I showed you his picture—you know how gorgeous he is.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“He’s way out of my league.”

---