Love letters from Mason and Becca
A note for the reader:
The letters you’re about to read were sent back and forth between Rebecca and Mason throughout the summer and thereafter. They’re the most secret thoughts and inner desires of two lovestruck not-fools. Enjoy!
Tucked away in a drawer in the bedroom of Dr. and Mrs. Dunn…
July 30th 2018
Dear Becca,
I wanted you to know that everything you told me last night was… Shit, Becca, it meant a lot to me that you could open up like that. Thanks for trusting me.
As for your asshole ex, and the fact that he screwed your life, know that I won’t let anything like that happen to you ever again. I’ll be here for you, got it? Good.
Now, about those cutoff shorts you’re always wearing. What’s the deal? You know you’re torturing me. You look too amazing in them, Becca, and I already struggle to concentrate around you.
Fuck it, I’ve got to go to work. Plus side? I’ll get to see you there.
Hey, I just realized something… This is the first time I’ll be signing one of these letters with my real name.
Mason
July 31st 2018
Dear Mason,
Sorry for the late reply, I only got this after…you left this morning.
So, last night happened. Maybe it was the cutoff jeans. Or maybe it was the fact that I can’t friggin’ resist you, doctor. It’s insane. Every time I’m around you, I lose myself, and I’m only telling you this here because I know I’ll sound like a total dork if I say it out loud.
When I’m around you… Shoot, I’m starting to sound like one of those clingy idiots who are totally codependent. Not that this is a relationship or anything.
OMG. I’m just going to scrap this letter and write another one at this rate, haha.
Anyway, I hope you have an amazing day today. I’ll see you at work.
Becca
August 5th 2018
Becca,
I’m sorry for being a dick the past while. I just wanted to protect you. I just wanted to make sure that you were fine. That you were safe. Being around you is a rollercoaster—best fucking ride ever.
I know that all this shit between us will work out, simply because I know that I’m not going to let you go. You read that right. I’m… Shit, you know I never thought I’d say something like this, but I’m invested. I’m one hundred percent invested in you.
Don’t be afraid of all this other shit and the people in this town. The nasty ones make the loudest noise, and in my experience nasty people always get what’s coming to them.
If you need to talk about any of the stuff that’s happened this past while, I’m here, all right? I’m here for you.
Mason.
August 7th 2018
Dear Mason,
Thanks for last night, and thanks for the letter.
I know things get a little heated between us, but I’m glad it always works out. This might sound crazy, but I view you as a really close friend. Yeah, I know we do other stuff too, but that friendship part is what I value the most.
The only person I’ve ever really connected with is my sister. I mean, I had friends and everything, but nothing close to the bond I had with Peggy.
So, yeah, basically I’m comparing you to my sister, right now. That’s not good. Hahaha. OK. Forget it.
I’m just saying that you make me feel comfortable around you, and because of that, I can relax. I haven’t done much relaxing in the past couple of years, so I do really appreciate that fact.
Thank you.
Kisses,
Becca
August 15th 2018
Becca,
Baby, you drive me fucking crazy. Last night was priceless. Every minute touching your body, holding you close, feels like a lifetime of perfection. And then it’s over, and I’m left just damn craving you nonstop. You’re everything I need and everything I want.
You’d better get onboard with that idea, angelface, because I’m not letting you go. I want to say “never” but I don’t want to scare you.
You were right, by the way. Writing this shit makes it easier to get it all out without sounding like a total dumbass.
I’ve got news for you, though. We’re in deep shit. That’s the news, if you didn’t catch it breaking last night, while I was filling you up. We’re in deep, because I’m addicted to you and there’s no turning back.
Addicted is a dumb way to put it. I’m not addicted. I’m not hooked. It’s like you’re water, and I’ve got to drink you or I’ll fucking die.
Like you’re a necessary part of my existence now.
Now that I’ve spilled my guts all over the place…
See you tonight. Wear that dress again, and there will be trouble. Or just no date because we won’t make it out the door again.
Licks,
Mason.
September 7th 2018
Dear Mason,
I don’t know if I’ll ever send you this letter. This is really hard for me to write.
I’m going to have this conversation with you face to face, but I needed to get these words down so I could think about what I wanted to say to you.
I’ll be honest, Dunn, I don’t think meeting you was a mistake. And I don’t think the fact that I’m now pregnant with your child is a mistake.
Yeah, you read that right. I’m pregnant. Of course, this isn’t planned. Yeah, we did all the right things, for the most part. Apparently, you’ve got really strong swimmers, or the pill isn’t right for me, because this is happening. It’s official.
I’ve attached a copy of the sonogram picture for you to look at.
OK, so now, I’m kind of stumped. You know that I’m pregnant. Naturally, you know that it’s yours. And what sucks, right now, is that I can’t think of anything to say other than you can be one hundred percent involved or not at all.
I know that sounds ridiculous, and, reading it back, it totally is ridiculous, but I’m not the type of person who will ever force someone to do something they don’t want to do. And I’d rather have a fully committed father in my child’s life than one who’s resentful or angry because they don’t want to be there. You see what I’m saying?
God, this is too complicated. That’s been my mantra these past few weeks. Too complicated. Maybe it’s an excuse. OK, so let’s shove the complications aside.
Here are my simple truths: I’m pregnant with your child, and I’m hopelessly in love with you, even though I never really wanted to feel this way again.
You know what I went through, Mason, and why I never wanted any of this. I know you felt the same way, but it’s too late for me to turn back now.
When I think of you, I feel warm inside. It’s like a light is filling up my chest and just growing and taking over, and I just want to… I want to hold you. Not just feel you inside me or kiss you or any of the other physical stuff. I want to hold you.
OK, so that’s it.
Now you know, and now I’ve kind of figured out what I want to say to you about it.
I’m coming over to talk to you. Probably won’t give you the letter. I’ve got to be brave enough to say all this stuff out loud, regardless of how difficult it might be.
Momma didn’t raise no lil’ bitch.
Haha.
Love,
Becca
September 10th 2018
Becca,
I haven’t heard from you since you came over the other day and all that shit went down with Tabitha. Christ, I hate having to write down her name. She’s such a shit-stirrer. I’m sorry I ever knew her, if only for the fact that you have to endure knowing her too.
When you were there, standing next to her, and she popped out that big fakeass pregnancy deal, you looked like you’d been snapped in two. I didn’t handle it well. You said you wanted to talk to me, and I was too fucking angry about everything to stand in one place.
But I’m here now. I’m in Vermont. I’m waiting to hear back from the doctor who owns the practice up here. I swore you off in my mind because I wanted to force myself to move on and to guard whatever the fuck is left of that beating lump in my chest. But I can’t.
I can’t stop thinking of you.
I can’t stop wanting you.
I can’t stop worrying about whether you’re safe. And about what it was you wanted to talk to me about. You looked so damn serious, Becca.
I know leaving you that note wasn’t the best way to tell you I needed space, but I really did. I can’t think straight with you around, and no shit, we’ve both been acting weird lately.
I’m sitting here in my hotel room with the full knowledge that this doctor will probably come back to me and tell me I’ve got the job. That I can move out of Stoneport tomorrow and leave everything behind.
But all I want, angelface, is to come screeching back into that town in my Dodge and right up to your front door. No matter what happened. No matter how bad we fought over everything. No matter how complicated everything got.
I just want you. I need you.
Fuck it, Becca, I love you.
I love you.
I actually fucking love you.
Three times in the past two seconds, and it still feels right. I love you so much I can’t… I don’t know what I’m doing sitting here.
Why am I here?
There’s no good reason for me to be sitting here, waiting for news I don’t care about when all I want to do is come back to you. We can work this out.
I’ll make it work.
Love,
Mason
December 25th 2024
Dear angelface,
How long’s it been now? You know I’m fucking terrible with dates.
I’m writing this on Christmas Day (no shit, right) sitting up in bed next to you. You’re still fast asleep. Your curls are lying across the pillow, your smell is on my skin. Fuck, yeah, it’s been six years since you first told me about our baby. Since we first decided to do this together.
I wouldn’t take back a single day. You’ve made me the happiest man in the world. You’ve made me the man I always wanted to be. I’m proud of who I am when I’m with you. I just wanted you to know that.
Shit, Angelica is awake. I can hear her pattering down the hall toward the stairs. She’s going for the Christmas tree, which means she’s going for the damn presents.
Gonna wake you up now.
I love you, angelface. I always will. I always have.
You’re stuck with me, baby, till the end of time.
Christ, now Ty’s barking. Most romantic letter ever. Just wait till I give it to you with breakfast in bed.
Yours until the universe implodes,
Mason
December 25th 2024
Dear Mason,
Merry Christmas.
I know I’m going to be seated across from you when you read this letter, and I’ll be enjoying every minute.
Two gifts for you. One I’ll give to you in private tonight. It’s a special show, for your eyes only.
And the other?
I’m pregnant.
And I love you.
Always yours,
Becca