I have to admit I was very surprised when I received the letter in my mail, that raw winter morning. It wasn’t any ordinary letter. It was sent to Mabel Harr, in California. Of course, that wasn’t the surprising part… after all, I am Mabel Harr, and I do live in California. No, the surprising thing was who sent the letter. Walter Selden. I whispered his name aloud as I grasped the crisp white envelope.
I haven't heard from Walter in years. Thirty years to be exact.
Old memories flooded my mind as I held that letter… memories of times gone past, when we were younger. Picnics, and parties, and dances; times where he’d held my hand and told me he loved me. The day he slipped a ring on my finger, and I promised to be his wife. Then the bad memories. I hated to relive them. That day he told me we couldn't marry… to many career opportunities, he said… it all muddled in my mind, everything except the thousands of tears I’d shed over lost love. I vividly remember pulling that little diamond ring off of my finger and handing it to him slowly… anguish written on my young face, and tears welling in my eyes. What made him send a letter now? The anticipation to open it was equaled by the dread I felt. I went back inside my lovely little cottage to escape the chilly air, and pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders. I set the letter carefully on my old oak table.
I’ll make a cup of tea.
How I wanted to open that letter, yet at the same time I felt myself postponing it. I set about making the tea, retrieving my favorite mug from the cabinet. The kettle whistled just as my tabby cat entered the kitchen, meowing. I poured some cream into my tea, and poured him a little saucer. He lapped it up greedily as I dropped a cube of sugar into my green tea and watched it slowly melt away. I settled into a dining chair, and picked the letter up. I read the name one more time… just to make sure I was right.
Of course I was right.
Slowly, I opened it. My heart was pounding. Wondering. Hoping? My eyes scanned the greeting, in Walter’s ever so familiar handwriting.
Dear Mabel,
Dear? Was he going to tell me that he still loved me? That he still wanted me? I held my breath - and tried to bury my rising hope- as I read on.
I’m sure you’re surprised to hear from me. I’ll get right to the point (Don’t I always, though? Blunt… that’s me. Always was a fault of mine.)
And it was true… there never was any beating around the bush with Walter. He was a no nonsense man.
Mabel… I can only imagine all the pain I caused you. Truly, I handled our situation wrongly. I wanted you to know that I’m sorry. Ever so sorry. I hope and pray that you can find it in yourself to forgive me.
I am now married quite happily. Did you ever marry? Or are you still at home with the cats?
--Sincerely, Walter Selden
Why did I feel so betrayed, reading this letter? I’d begun to hope, as I read his apology… only for it to be dashed with his proclamation of a satisfying marriage. I was tempted to throw the letter away and never respond. But if I did that, he’d think I was hurt - and of course I was - but I wouldn’t let him get the best of me. I picked up a pen and a sheet of paper, than began to write:
Dear Walter,
Thank you for your kind letter. Let the past remain what it is - the past - and of course I will forgive you. I’m glad to hear that you are married and happy. I hope all goes well with you. I never married… I’m still at home with the cats, although they’ve been reduced from eight to three instead.
Sincerely,
Mabel Harr
I sighed, then folded the letter and sealed it into an envelope. I pressed a stamp onto the envelope’s corner. Every bit of that response was a lie… Of course I wasn’t thankful for his letter… it only brought back painful memories. No, I didn’t forgive him… he’d hurt me too much to uproot the bitterness in my heart. No, I wasn’t happy about his marriage… not when I’d always thought I would be his bride. Just about the only truth in that letter was that I never married and was still home with my cats.
I mailed the letter the next morning. Life went on as usual… working at the bookstore, tending my garden, playing with my cats, drinking tea. A month later I still hadn’t received a response from Walter. Was he only trying to rid himself of guilt by sending me that letter? I sat in my cozy armchair, holding one of my cats, petting him as he purred, when the doorbell rang. No one ever visited me… who could it be?
I stood up, and went to open the door to see… him. Those same squared shoulders… he was still tall as ever. His dark brown hair and mustache had flecks of silvery gray.
“Walter?”
“Hi Mabel. Same old me.” he chuckled nervously. “Just thirty years older.”
“Walter, what are you doing here?”
“I got your letter, Mabel. I just wanted you to know that…” he paused.
“That what?”
“That I still love you.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Walter, you’re married.” As if he’d forgotten.
“I lied.” He glanced at me with a sheepish grin.
My jaw dropped.
“I wanted you to think I was happy… I was bracing myself for the reality that you were probably married.” He sighed. “I didn’t think I stood a chance. In reality I’ve regretted losing you, more than you know.”
“Walter, I don’t understand.”
“I’m sorry Mabel… I should just go.”
I barely nodded, trying to take it all in, as he slowly walked away… again. It felt like deja vu. I tried to process it, when I clearly heard the voice of my dear old grandmother in my head… she always told me this… Never let bitterness grow so strong in your heart that you cannot forgive others, and that you lose your chance at true love.
“Walter!”
He turned quickly. “Yes?”
“I love you too.” The words left my mouth, and I knew I truly meant them.
The biggest smile I’d ever seen spread across his handsome face. He started walking towards me, then broke into a run. He reached the doorstep and pulled me into his arms. Kissing me tenderly like he once had… when we were younger.
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