Snapshot (Lessons in Love Book 2)

Ten Years Earlier

Miami

Heart racing, I pace back and forth on the throw rug in my office, feeling the plush fabric flatten under my feet. I stare at my box of letters set neatly on the coffee table. On top, an envelope with a blue sticky note:

I’m sorry. I read your letters.

– Harrison

Years of being in a leadership position have taught me composure under pressure. I assess the situation in front of me and try to draw all the possible conclusions so I can counteract each with a viable solution.

Obviously, Harrison managed to get himself out of his chair today and make his way to the office. It’s been nearly six months since he visited headquarters. Every now and then, he asks questions at home about business logistics. Perhaps just for something to talk about at the dinner table. Now that Dex is away at college, dinners are mostly silent. The sound of ice clinking in glasses and silverware scraping across the dinnerware is the only thing we hear as we hurry through the meal the chef prepared. After that, we usually retreat to opposite sides of the estate. Harrison drowning himself in liquor. Me, drowning in fantasies of a different life.

I was late to the office today. It’s Friday, so I went to lay daisies on Melody’s grave. When I got back, my secret box of letters was on the coffee table, topped by a letter from Harrison and the sticky note confession. I know Harrison always suspected I kept in touch with Jacob. He hated the notion, wanting me to be devoted to only him. But more for possession, not love. He’s a jealous man, quick to anger.

I’m quite shocked he took the time to write me a letter. He could’ve told me off much quicker. Harrison lives in a state of delusion. Me writing letters I never intend to send would be the utmost treachery in his eyes. However, the child he fathered, then tried to erase like she was an arithmetic error written in pencil, was merely a speedbump in our marriage. Narcissism at its finest. He was so different from the man who proposed to me all those years ago.

He’s also never forgiven me for keeping Denny so close. Yes, I pitied her. Her excuse of a mother couldn’t see what a beautiful daughter she had the privilege of bringing into this world. Product of an affair or not, Denny was just an innocent child who deserved love. But also, I wanted Harrison to rise above the circumstances and give this child the life she deserved. If I could move on from his indiscretion…why couldn’t he?

After dodging all the legal red tape Harrison and his parents set up to keep her from knowing who she truly was, I found a way to keep Denny. Our guardianship expired on her eighteenth birthday. Keeping her as an assistant was the only way I could take care of her the way she deserved. Once my initial anger subsided, all I wanted was for Harrison to have a real relationship with his daughter. He refused.

And now, here I am. Staring in the face of my own so-called unfaithfulness. But can we really compare a child to unsent letters? I’m sure Harrison could find a way. My hand trembling, I pick up the letter, ready to face the consequences. If Harrison read every single letter, he knows where my heart has been for our entire marriage.

Deep breath, I tell myself, bracing for the putrid anger I’m sure this letter contains.

Dear Dottie,

I can imagine what’s going through your mind at the moment. If you’re angry with me for reading your letters, I’m sorry. Perhaps you think I’m angry with you for the contents. I assure you, I’m not.

Actually, I’m thinking of how little I know you after four decades of marriage. How much you like to write, your favorite flower, your worries and fears in the office.

I suppose I never took the time to get to know you all these years together, which is why none of your beautiful, heartbreaking love letters are to me.

I know the man I am. I am a product of my parents and their parents before them. Maybe that’s why I was so drawn to you. Somehow, I sensed you could break the cycle.

My original intention was to become more like you. In the end, I fear I changed your heart more than I allowed you to change mine. And for that, I’m sorry.

You deserved better, my sweetheart.

I never thanked you for being loyal when you could’ve strayed. Where I was weak, you were strong. You gave me a family when I thought I’d never have one. And please know, Dottie, in my way, to the best of my ability, which I know has been unimpressive, I do love you.

I miss our daughter every day. She may be Jacob’s, but she’s also mine. We shouldn’t have hidden Melody’s adoption. It was never a shameful thing. Becoming her father was the pride and joy of my life.

And now, Dex is just as much a piece of me. In a way, the son I always dreamed of having. I am so proud of him. He only has the good parts of all of us. Your intelligence and kindness. My strength. Melody’s beauty. And the parts of him I don’t recognize in myself…maybe that’s Jacob’s spirit.

When we’re gone, all that’ll be left are the pieces. Just a snapshot into the lives we led. The world may never know the full story, but the beautiful parts they’ll see I know are all because of you.

Thank you for that, Dottie. And I’m sorry I’ve taken so much more than I could give.

I’ll see you for dinner.

Tonight, I’ll bring daisies.

Love,

Harrison

I’m normally not a crier, but the warm tears drench my cheeks as my heartbeat thuds hard in my chest. Completely awestruck, I reread the letter twice more.

It took an entire lifetime, but here’s a glimpse of the old Harrison. The man I thought I could love. And I do. In a different way than I expected, but it’s still profound. My heart may be with Jacob, but my family is with Harrison.

I tuck Harrison’s letter into my box, deciding it’s sacred enough to stay.

The remainder of my day is back-to-back meetings—budget approvals and quarterly earnings. But I decide to cancel it all. I can’t remember the last time I took a day off. I think I’ll cut out early and get my hair touched up and my nails refreshed. Bright red, as always. It’s Harrison’s favorite color.

I smile to myself. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I’m looking forward to dinner with my husband.