James was somewhat relieved that Helen had not kissed him. He was too defenseless to say “no” to her. Most likely, they would have ended up having sex. He liked her, but, in his mind, it was not a matter of physical attraction. His broken heart was still healing; he could not jump into a new relationship so fast. More than that, Shandaken was a very small town. Sooner or later, someone would see them together and people would start to gossip. James hated it when others discussed his personal life.

Helen’s advances had not taken him by surprise. He could still recall the silly things she used to say to him at the supermarket and her passionate kiss on the terrace. Her negative answer had puzzled and intrigued him. He couldn’t imagine why she “couldn’t” kiss him. After all, they were both single and she had admitted having feelings for him.

“Now you have me curious, girl. Where are you?” He thought to himself, his eyes sweeping the spacious bar for Helen, while Eric Clapton’s “Layla” sang into his ears. She was sat at the table in the upper left corner; she even waved at him.

“This had better be good.” He said, peeling off his coat.

“Good evening to you, too,” she teased. “I’ve ordered you a beer. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.” James murmured, sitting himself across from her. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Well…” A cunning smile spread across her face. “I ran into Olivia last night.”

“You’re kidding, right?” He questioned her, while he narrowed his eyes, looking for any lies.

“Nope,” she shook her head sideways. “Saw her up close and personal: brunette, 5’6”, big boobs. I think everyone saw her; I was just polite enough to talk to her.”

“Alright,” James sighed, realized she wasn’t fooling around, and tried to overcome his shock. “Tell me everything.”

“I was getting out of the music hall, when I overheard someone saying ‘Come on, Liv.’ A few feet away from the entrance, I saw this tall redhead, hugging some woman. She was crying and I mean loud. Most people just stared. I seemed to be the only one curious enough to ask her what was so painful that she was crying. She told me who she was: Olivia Ralston. We started talking and, the next thing I knew, we were in a bar. After a couple of drinks, she told me everything. I really felt sorry for her; actually, for the both of you. We totally hit it off. She’s a great person. I spent the night at her place. She asked me to give you this.”

At that moment, Helen pulled a thick, white envelope out of her coat and gave it to him. James pried it open with clumsy fingers, pulled the letter out, and began reading.

“My dear James,

Forgive me for doing this. I feel like I have no other choice. I know… trusting a total stranger with a letter for the man you love looks desperate. But, I am desperate, and Helen looks like a nice girl.

Despite what you told me, you did work with Michelle Adams. I don’t know if anything happened between you two, and it’s really none of my business. I just hope you continue to write songs like the one you guys played last night. My God… The word ‘beautiful’ is not enough to describe it. And when I heard you singing my name… I cried. I cried very hard. I couldn’t believe it. All that pain in your voice shook me up so badly that I wanted to just… storm out of the hall. But, I couldn’t. I just had to stay till the end. I had to enjoy every second of it. No one’s ever written a song for me, especially not one as heartbreaking as that was. I can still hear the lyrics in my head. I can still remember the eight times you said my name. I’ll never forget that: ever.

You have every right to be mad at me. You’re right; everything that night was pretty much made up, until the point where we started playing music together. You made me forget why I was in your cabin. You were so focused, so passionate and the chemistry between us was just unbelievable… it felt like I’d been playing with you for years. The best part of that night, though, was our kiss. It left me breathless. I wanted more: so much more. I was really bummed when you asked me to go to bed. I couldn’t force the issue, though. You looked really upset and we’d probably have ended up arguing with each other.

Everything else was real. When you showed up at the bar, I took it as a sign of fate. I said to myself: ‘Of all the bars in Manhattan, he chose ‘Jodie’s’.’ Then, you changed my life. You brought all your goodness, and gave it to me, just by being: kind, loving, romantic, thoughtful... God, what more can a girl ask for? But good things don’t last. I wanted to disappear off the face of the Earth when we broke up. I had lost the best thing that had ever happened to me. I felt so guilty… That’s why I mentioned to you ‘Careless Whisper’ last night: because ‘guilty feet have got no rhythm’.

I miss you, James. I lie awake at night, thinking about you, wishing I was back in your arms, listening to your voice, making love to you… Forgive me, baby. I ruined everything by not being honest with you.

All my love,

Olivia”

By the time James had finished reading Olivia’s letter, tears were flowing down his cheeks.

“She told me about your identity.” Helen spoke, as he put the letter down on the table. “It kind of slipped her tongue. Then, she taught me how to act surprised.”

“It’s ok.” James whispered, wiping the tears off his face.

“You’ve just proved me right.” She smirked. “You’ve just proved I did the right thing this morning.”

“What are you talking about?” He whispered, his voice barely audible as he looked down at her.

“There’s still love there,” Helen remarked. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

“That’s really kind of you,” James commented. “But, we started out as a lie. She kept the truth from me. I don’t know if I can trust her again.”

“Don’t make me change my opinion about you,” she attempted a chiding tone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Frustration was lingering in his voice.

“It means that real men find the power to forgive.” Helen explained, leaning in towards him. “You’re a great writer; there’s no doubt about that. But, are you a great man?”

“I think I’m starting to miss my young, drunk Helen.” James protested. “She didn’t talk like that.”

“Drunk Helen never stood a chance.” Her bitter smile gave away her sadness. “She waited too long to make her move. She made a friend last night and that friend is hurting.”

“What if I didn’t want to get back together with Olivia?” He wondered, his voice low and deep. “What if I wanted to start a relationship with you?”

“That sounds very tempting.” Helen whispered, lowering her gaze. “But you’re still in love with her, and, like I said, I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Helen…” James snorted. “We broke up almost a month ago. You wouldn’t get in the way.”

“Judging by your tears and hers, I think I would.” She disagreed.

“Thanks a lot for this.” James picked up the letter from the table. “You take care.”