Drew

She didn’t know about the letters, did she?” I asked Lily.

“No.” Lily replied.

My father brought me up to be a real man. A man who lived for honor, and respect.

I’d never disrespect a woman by even raising my voice to her. I was the guy who would throw down my jacket so my woman wouldn’t have the walk through a puddle, and the guy who would do anything to see her smile.

I treated all women with that sort of respect, including Lily. But this was the first time in my life that I’d ever felt like grabbing a woman and shaking her.

I felt sick at the thought, and for what these people had changed me into.

Bree’s father, Ben, and now Lily. The lies and deceit.

I was the one who paid for it because if Bree didn’t know about the letters then she believed that I forgot her.

I thought about the craziness of how I felt all night.

I drove home and drank myself into an oblivion of stupor with all manner of thoughts swirling through my mind.

When Lily, who hadn’t really ever come to see me, came by at the crack of dawn to talk to me I knew something was seriously up.

The woman looked like she was ready to confess her sins, and the sickly pale look on her already ghostly pale skin revealed guilt to me.

I knew even before her saying anything what she was about to tell me and here we were.

I laughed a cruel, wicked laugh.

“What’s funny?” She asked

“It’s better to laugh than to scream. Why?” I couldn’t control the tone in my voice. “Tell me why. Please. What did I do to deserve that?”

“Nothing,” she replied.

“Then why?” I could actually feel the heart ache I’d experienced for the last decade swell within me and overwhelm my body.

“I didn’t see Ben for six months. He called me and told me he’d taken Bree and that I was just to look after the house. But I couldn’t get him to tell me where they went. You have no idea what he could be like sometimes, especially after Miranda died.” She stopped to pull in a breath. Miranda was Bree’s mother. I remembered how distraught Bree and her father were after her death. It was true that Ben changed then. “It was clear that the depression and bereavement he experienced made him lose his mind. When you came to me I honestly didn’t know where they went.”

“But there was a point when you did, and started to lie.” I threw back. Only God in heaven knew how many times I went to see Lily. I did everything I possibly could to find Bree and failed. I went to the Navy as planned because I didn’t want to procrastinate that part of my life.

It didn’t stop me though from trying to find Bree. I did the only thing I could do and I wrote to her. I sent the letters to the old farm house, in care of Lily. I wrote to Bree every fucking day for two years.

The letters became more of a journal, except that I really did send each one. It helped because I felt like I was connecting, or holding on to something. Holding on to her, and the memory of the beautiful girl I had. The girl who was mine.

When I never heard back I thought it was definitely a lost cause. So, I stopped.

“I forwarded on the first few and Ben told me to never send the letters to Bree again if more came. He threatened moving again and cutting contact with me, because he thought I’d tell you where they were.”

So, she looked out for herself and allowed me to believe that Bree got the letters and didn’t want anything to do with me.

“What was so wrong with me being with her? I don’t get it. I wasn’t a bad person.”

“Son, it wasn’t you. He blamed your father for everything that he lost and he felt you were coming to take away the last thing he had left in this world. Bree. He didn’t want her to have anything to do with any of you. Her being with you was a nightmare for him.”

“Ben’s unfounded crap about my father was nothing to do with me,” I balked.

“Drew, I really wish I could tell you that it was unfounded crap but it wasn’t. Miranda was having an affair with your father.” She nodded and brought her hands together.

“No. My father would never have done that.”

“I saw them. It was me who saw them together. I caught them and Miranda begged me to keep quiet about it, but I couldn’t. So, Drew, all of this began because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

The words in my mind just dissipated.

“What?” My father had…

I tried to think back to what he’d said about Miranda but couldn’t quite remember him denying the affair, although it wasn’t something I asked him about. Parker was the one who spoke to him more on that level and still did. My father and I had a different relationship to what he shared with Parker. I didn’t like talking about my feelings or confiding in people. Didn’t matter who.

“Drew, I have a massive part to play in this and I’m here today because of the wrong I did. Wrongs that I felt were right at the time. I told Ben about Miranda and your father, and that resulted in her death because she was trying to get away from his controlling ways. Then I didn’t tell you that I couldn’t send on the letters because I knew it would break your heart, and I couldn’t betray my brothers wishes by trying to find a way to send them to Bree. Because every time I intervened something bad would happen. I thought I’d allow time to take its course in whatever form it wished to take.”

I lowered my head and then shook it. “I don’t know what to do now.”

“Well you could do nothing, or …something. Why didn’t you talk to her when you saw her?”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

Bree and I must have looked at each other for a good five minutes before I touched her cheek just to see if she was real. Then when I really, and truly realized she was I felt anger from the memory of the letters and wondered if she couldn’t have even responded to one.

All she had to do was send one letter back telling me she didn’t love me. Something to set me free.

It wasn’t until in the late hours of the night in my drunken state that the thought occurred to me that maybe she never got the letters.

Maybe my mind had set out all the events that took place and allowed me to see what had gone on with a little more clarity. Add that and the look she’d given me the whole time we stared at each other and it felt like maybe she’d never gotten the letters.

The look was one of longing, sadness, surprise, and disappointment.

“You should see her before she leaves.”

“When is she leaving?”

“Two days.”

“To go where?”

“Morocco.” Lily nodded. “She works for National Geographic Magazine. She’s always travelling for work. I haven’t seen her in five years. She decided to come see me when she realized how terrible that was.”

I was glad that she got her dream job. She used to always talk about working for National Geographic magazine. She was always taking pictures of whatever she could find, and loved nature.

“And she leaves in two days?”

“Two days. I’m going to tell her everything Drew. I need to tell her about the letters and about what happened. I just wanted to tell you first because I owed you that explanation. You should definitely consider seeing her before she leaves.”

So little time. Too little time.

How could I squeeze in ten years in two days, and feeling like this?