Some Letters Should Not Be Found

Peter took another sip from his drink. It was fourteen hours until he hit Los Angeles. A cold flush swept across his body as if someone had walked on his grave.

****

Peter had never mastered the art of sleeping on planes, so he drank and watched movies instead. Usually, about four hours away from decent, he would nod off out of pure exhaustion.

He was thinking about Michelle and what a difference she had already made in his life.

He was in love!

He thought about his wife, Jackie. He knew she was having an affair. While it didn't justify his actions with Michelle, it made coping easier.

Their relationship was over anyway. Hell, it should never have started in the first place, but it did. Now, it was more platonic than anything else, mixed with venom when she got drunk. He recalled the night he woke up to her sitting on the bed, clutching a knife to his throat.

“Tell me why I should not cut your throat, you piece of shit?”

Without thinking, he replied, “I don’t have a reason; if you are going to do it, then do it!”

It was just another fight. He worked late again and came home to find her and her friend Sally drunk. Whenever she drank too much, she became violent.

It had ended as it had so many times before, with an apology, a long kiss on the lips, and promises of “I will make it up to you. Don’t be late home tonight, O.K.”

He started out the window at the sunrise; not long to go now, another hour or two. He was snapped out of his trance. Again, a cold shiver ran down his spine. It was as if someone had run over him.

I must just be tired; he tried to justify it to himself.

***

At the same time, many miles away:

Jackie went to the wardrobe and pulled Peter’s grey pinstripe suit off the rack. She had promised to take it to the dry cleaner while he was away.

She checked the pockets, took out his business cards, which were always in his top pocket, and, wait, what was this? She pulled a letter from his inside lapel pocket.

"What the hell!” as she sat down on the bed. It was addressed as ‘My darling Peter,

My darling Peter,

I don’t know how I will get on without you while you are away. In the last few months, you have made me so happy and given me a new meaning of ‘love.’

I ache for you. I want to hold you close again. I miss kissing you, caressing you, and stroking your beautiful hair—just like last week.

While you are away, I hope you will think of me every night before you go to sleep and know how much I love you. I know I will think of you and hug my pillow, pretending it is you.

I love you, my darling; travel safely.

All my love,

Michelle xxxxx

Enraged, she threw his suit on the ground and jumped on it.

“Bastard, bastard!” she yelled as she stomped on the suit.

After she calmed down, she put the letter in her bedside drawer and took the suit to the dry cleaner. On the way, she rang her boyfriend, Tom.

“Hey, darling, come over tonight and keep me company. I need to feel you beside me. The prick is away, so plan to stay the night; I will make it worth your while."

"Around seven, can’t wait. Rest up; you will need it,” she added.

When she got home, she started to execute her plan.

“You don’t mess with me and get away with it,” she yelled at the blank wall where their picture was, until this morning.

She took out her laptop and started typing a letter.

****

My dear Peter,

By the time you read this, you will probably hate me. I am sorry for what I am about to say. It hurts me more than it hurts you.

My husband knows about us. He said that if I don't stop seeing you, he will tell everyone at work about our affair.

You know that this is against company policy, and we would both end up losing our jobs. You have put so much into your career that I could not do this to you. I love you and will always love you, but you must not try to contact me or talk to me, especially at work.

It was good while it lasted. I'm sorry!

I am only typing this because I am doing it at work and need to appear to be working. I don’t care if I lose my job; I would much rather be with you, but for the time being, we need to be careful.

****

Five days later.

Peter arrived back from his trip in the early morning. Jackie was still in bed. He went over to her and gave her a superficial kiss on the cheek. There was no love left. His heart was in a different place now.

“Hello, darling, sleepy head. Can I get you a coffee or do you want to sleep a bit more?”

"I’ll just sleep, thank you. Are you going to work?"

“Yes, I will go in for a while, but I won’t be home late. O.K."

“Sure,” were her only words as she rolled away from him. “Your suit is back from the dry cleaners if you want to wear that, and there is some mail for you.”

“Thanks, I will.”

He showered, changed into a fresh shirt and his suit, had a coffee, and left for work.

On his way out, he scooped up the letters. Mostly bills as usual, but there was one from his company that caught his attention. He took it and put it in his coat pocket to read when he got to work. Driving to work, he has the same sensation. like someone was walking on his grave. "I need to go and see a Doc if this continues," he mumbled, between singing the words to the song on the radio.

[Part II - Coming soon.]

Till next time,

Calvin