Page 102 of Every Now and Then
My fingers move to the next drawer, but it seems stuck. I tug hard until it finally gives, spilling a thick stack of overstuffed envelopes onto the floor.
I groan as I bend down to pick them up. Who knows what kind of stuff is in here?
“What is all that?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I sigh. Immediately following Kyle’s death, we had family members in and out of the house for weeks. I’m sure one well-intentioned soul just stored all the accumulated mail in the desk for me to deal with later. “I hope I didn’t inadvertently miss something important.”
“Like information about Kyle’s life insurance.”
“Exactly.”
During our marriage, Kyle took care of all that stuff. The dutiful—and blissfully ignorant—wife that I was, I never asked questions. I just assumed. And after his death, I found out that some of my assumptions were wrong. The hardest pill to swallow was that he had never taken out a life insurance policy, so we had no financial protection when he died. For the past few months, I’ve been living off our savings, but that can’t last much longer.
Once I’ve picked up all the envelopes from the floor and stacked them up, I comb through the pile, quickly opening and discarding most of them as old junk mail.
But then my fingers stumble over a letter addressed to me in a familiar scrawl. There is no return address, but I'd recognize that handwriting anywhere. Seeing it again takes my breath away.
Looking at the postmark, I recognize the date the letter was mailed.
On the day I confronted him about having an affair—which was also the day he died—Kyle mailed me this letter.
In the quiet room, the song continues playing as my breathing grows erratic.
Turning the letter over in my hand, I debate whether I should open it. Only moments ago, I said I wanted answers, but now that they’re at my fingertips, I pause.
Though trepidation fills me, I summon my courage, and with unsteady hands, I tear open the envelope.
Lifting the flap, I pull out the letter. I trace my fingers over the fine indentations on the paper from his firm printing, remembering all the letters and notes he’d written me over the course of our relationship. Swallowing a sob that’s threatening to work its way up my throat, I suck in a fortifying breath before exhaling.
There are dried wet spots of blurred ink on the paper, like bits of confetti left long after the celebration is over. I know they mark where his tears fell, and that knowledge makes my own tears join them, our bodily fluids co-mingling one last time.
Hearing my muffled cries, Laura rushes to my side. “Are you okay? What is it?”
“I… I found a letter. A letter from Kyle.”
Laura’s eyes widen. From fear? Worry? I’m not sure, but she slips her arm around my shoulders. “I’m right here if you need me, okay?”
I nod. Then I lower my head and, through blurry eyes, I read.
Dear Anna,
God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for putting you through this. You’re my best friend, and I will always have love for you.
When I married you, I really hoped that we could build a life together and be happy. That I could be happy. I wish that what I had with you and the girls was enough, but it isn’t. I’ve been unhappy for a long time. Possibly, my entire life.
I know you’ll want answers, and you deserve to have that closure, especially since I’ve been living a lie. I love you and always will, but I don’t think I’ve ever been in love with you. I’m sorry to put it so bluntly, and it’s through no fault of your own. It’s all my fault.
I rub my chest as pain rolls through me at Kyle’s brutal confession. How could he have married me if he was never even in love with me? It feels so cruel.
Throughout our relationship, I resisted temptation and remained strong. Until last year. We were going through a rough patch, and I gave in one night. I hoped that one night would be enough to get it out of my system, but all it did was show me how much happier and more fulfilled I could be with someone else. It showed me what my life was missing, but I can never have that life. I started and stopped my affair with Grayson several times, and he—
He? My eyes bug out. Kyle was having an affair with a man?
“Oh my God,” I mumble, as the letter drops from my fingers and my gaze leaps from the page to meet Laura’s.
“What is it? What does the letter say?”
I shake my head, unwilling to talk about it yet. Laura nods and steps back, leaning against the wall, watching me with worried eyes.
