A Letter in the Morning Mail

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft golden hue over the room. Emma sat at the small kitchen table, her fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee. She watched as the steam swirled and dissipated, a brief moment of calm before the usual bustle of the day. It was a quiet morning in the village of Alderdale, where nothing much ever happened. The streets were still empty, and the only sounds were the distant chirp of birds and the soft hum of a few early risers.

Emma's thoughts wandered back to the letter she had received the previous day. It wasn’t an ordinary letter. It was postmarked from London, addressed in an elegant hand, with the name Eliza Montgomery emblazoned across the front. She knew the name well, though the face was distant now—Eliza had been Emma's closest friend years ago, before life had taken them down different paths. And yet, after all these years, here was a letter from her, out of the blue.

Emma had hesitated to open it. There had been so much time between them, so much unsaid, so many unspoken words left to gather dust in the corners of her memory. What could Eliza want now? But curiosity had gotten the better of her, and with a trembling hand, she had sliced open the envelope.

The letter was short but filled with emotion, as if Eliza had written it in haste, her words spilling onto the page. It began simply:

"Dearest Emma,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have been thinking of you often these past few weeks. There is something I must tell you, something I should have said long ago."

Emma had read the words over and over again, her heart beating faster each time. What could it be? She couldn’t quite understand why Eliza would feel the need to contact her after all these years, but there was something about the tone of the letter that made her sit up straighter, made her feel that something important was being held back.

Eliza had ended the letter with an invitation: "I will be in Alderdale in two weeks’ time. Please meet me at the old oak tree near the riverbank. I have something to share with you, something that can no longer wait."

Emma hadn’t known what to make of it. What could Eliza possibly have to share with her? It had been so long since they had last spoken, since their lives had splintered apart due to misunderstandings and the changing tides of life. Yet, the invitation was clear. Eliza wanted to meet.

Now, here she was, sitting at the kitchen table, the letter still fresh in her mind. The morning mail had come while she was deep in thought, and as Emma flipped through the familiar pile of bills, magazines, and local newsletters, her fingers hesitated over one particular envelope. It wasn’t the size of the envelope that caught her attention, nor the neat

Carefully, she flipped it over, revealing the seal. Without a doubt, it belonged to Eliza. Her heart missed a beat, a tiny but important part. Emma got up from the table without thinking, her chair making a loud scraping sound as it hit the floor. As though expecting to see Eliza strolling down the street, she approached the window and gazed out over the quiet village. Of course, that was absurd. Even though Eliza was not even scheduled to come for another two weeks, Emma could not help but be excited.

With the letter in her hands, she went back to the kitchen and took a seat. She took a long breath, smelling the lavender again, and then she ripped it open. The letter was written in the same fine handwriting that had characterized the earlier one, and she discovered another inside.

But this letter was different. Only a few days had passed since the first one was dated.

"To Emma,

I can not wait any longer. I understand that you may be surprised, but I have to tell you something that you must hear before we meet.

The only reason I am here Alderdale is to tell you what transpired between us. To tell you the truth I have been hiding for too long. I shall always bear the burden of regret because I am aware that I have harmed you. There is more, though, and I never dared to say it out loud.

In two weeks, I shall be at the riverbank, and I

Emma, please do not let hurt or rage prevent you from seeing me. I need to tell you my story and tell you the truth because I should have told you that long ago.

Always yours, Eliza.

Emma sat in stunned silence for a long time after the letter slid from her hands. A surge of contradictory feelings struck her all at once, and her heart pounded in her chest. Anger, bewilderment, regret, and even a glimmer of optimism. Is it possible? Was Eliza really the one who had to bear the weight of their years-long separation? Emma had always felt like the one who was kept in the dark, never really knowing what had transpired between them or what had caused their friendship to fall apart irreparably.

She got back to her feet and paced the tiny kitchen, her mind racing with ideas. Shall she meet her? Would she be able to accomplish it at all? The past had been so difficult and painful. At one point, their friendship had meant the world to Emma, and its abrupt and unexplained termination had left her with more wounds than she wanted to acknowledge.

However, Emma had not anticipated seeing the tenderness and longing in Eliza's letters, but there was something genuine about the way the words flowed out that drew her in. What if Eliza had been suffering all these years, clinging to the same unsolved questions Emma had?

Emma became aware that time was passing when she heard the wall clock ticking loudly in the silence. She had two weeks to be ready and make up her mind about whether or not she was ready to confront the past and let go of the resentment that had characterized so much of her life.

Emma took a long breath and decided. Eliza would meet her. Whatever her story might be, she would go to the old oak tree by the river and listen to it. Too much was left unsaid between them, and Emma realized that even though the path ahead would be challenging, it was the only one. Whatever the truth was, it had to be revealed.

The old oak tree by the riverbank had been a place where they had spent countless hours as children, talking about their hopes and dreams, sharing their fears and secrets. It seemed fitting, then, that it would be the place where they would try to heal the wounds of the past.

Two weeks. She had two weeks to prepare her heart for whatever Eliza had to say.

And so, as the morning light continued to pour into the room, Emma folded the letter carefully and placed it in the drawer. She had made her choice. The past might have shaped them, but it no longer had the power to define their future.

Two weeks. The countdown had begun.