Page 85 of More Than Pen Pals

I look at my hands instead of at her. “I don’t want to do the wrong thing. I don’t want to hurt him.”

“Leslie, I think you’re hurting him more by what you’re doing now than if you were to cut him out of your life, which isn’t possible unless you quit this job—or get fired, which is a distinct possibility if you can’t get things under control here. You can’t continue on like this.”

Pain sears through my chest as I focus in on the most important thing she said and ignore the rest. “I’m hurting him? How?”

“You keep letting him get close—or pulling him close—and then pushing him away. You think it’s not fair to him for you to date him so soon after Glenn, but this seems less fair. Since you can’t completely walk away from him, I think you need to go for it.”

“But I don’t deserve him. He should be with someone who’s as good as he is. That’s not me. Like you said, I’ve done nothing but hurt him from the time we were kids.”

“I didnotsay that, Leslie Beckett—not even close to it. You might have done a few things to cause him some pain, but you’ve only done them out of a misguided attempt to potentially spare him pain down the road. You truly care for him. I can tell. You might be in love with him. This is not you reacting to Glenn. This is you discovering that a boy you cared a lot about from a distance years ago is now a man you care more about up close and personal. You didn’t meet Ash Hamilton six days ago. You’ve known him for fifteen years. It’s okay to date him, honey.”

I want her to be right so badly, but I can’t focus while I’m afraid someone will walk in on us. “Can you get me out of here? Get me home with nobody seeing what a mess I am? I need to be somewhere else to figure out what to do. I can’t lose my job because I’m not capable of holding myself together in the office.”

She slides off my desk. “You better believe I can. Fix your makeup and gather up your things, and I’ll be back in less than five minutes.”

While Wendy’s gone, I dig my compact and eyeliner out of my purse and fix my face as best I can. She returns as I’m packing up my briefcase.

“Okay,” she says, “we’re going to walk out of here together. We’ll talk about our plans to go shopping this weekend, your brother visiting, or whatever else we need to as we go—nothing about work, so nobody will attempt to chime in. Walk confidently, but keep your eyes on the floor to hide how red they are. If anyone stops to talk to us, I’ll distract them, and you keep walking. Got it?”

I nod and take a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

We make it out of Carter-Jenkins and the building unscathed. When we reach the sidewalk, I turn toward the bus stop, but Wendy skips out into the street and waves down a cab.

“You don’t need to deal with the hordes on the bus,” she explains as she follows me into the car.

Wendy holds my hand and is unnaturally silent as we make our way to my apartment, which I’m thankful for. I can think of nothing but how much I loved working alongside Ash while we talked and planned and attempted to make the world a better place—together.

“I want to be with him so badly,” I whisper.

“Then be with him. It’s okay. It really is.” Wendy squeezes my hand.

The pressure in my chest eases as I consider the possibility. I haven’t fully let myself think about what it might be like to be with Ash yet. Glenn was always there in the back of my mind, like a specter, taunting me—telling me I can’t get over him. But I can. I have. And I’ve found someone so much better. In an instant, I know I can be with Ash now without reservation.

“Okay,” I say. “How do I find him? Do you think he’s still at work? Should I go back there? Call there when I get home? Track him down at his house? What do I do? Tell me!” I’m suddenly frantic to be in his presence—to touch him, kiss him again, tell him everything I’m feeling.

Wendy laughs. “Calm down, my friend. I’ve got it covered. When I left you for those five minutes, I called Randall and told him to get Ash to his place after work, because I thought this would happen. Randall only lives a few blocks from you. We’ll get you all fixed up at your apartment and then I’ll take you over there.”

I shake my head. “I don’t care what I look like. Let’s go now.”

“They’re not there yet. I know you can’t wait to see him, but another half hour won’t kill you.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.” I feel like I could spontaneously combust.

Wendy chuckles as the car comes to a halt outside my apartment building. She pays the driver and hauls me out behind her. As we pass by the mailboxes, I notice an envelope through the tiny window in my box. I know it can’t be from Ash, but I have to check.

“Hold up,” I say to Wendy as I spin the lock.

“Oooo,” she says, “is there a letter from your pen pal in there?”

I ignore her, open the box, and pull out the envelope. My heart drops into my stomach when I see the handwriting.

“What?” Wendy asks. “You look like you’ve seen the ghost of your childhood nemesis.”

I shove the letter at her. “It’s from Glenn. I can’t read it. I can’t. Why does he keep messing everything up?”

Wendy takes the envelope from me and holds it gingerly between two fingers as if it’s contaminated. “Want me to burn it?”

Maybe. I don’t know what to do. He can’t have anything to say that I want to hear, because there’s nothing he could say that would change my mind. Right? I give myself a shake. Right. He doesn’t hold a candle to Ash. But will I regret not reading this letter?

---