All My Love

Trigger Warning: Suicidal Thoughts

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It was just a photograph. A moment caught in time that would be forever preserved in shades of gray and white. 

So why did it feel like the whole world depended on its existence?

Kathy’s heels clicked against the concrete with urgency in every step. She glanced at her watch, frowning as the long hand crept closer to that ominous number seven. She closed her jacket, fingers trembling as she fastened the buttons against the icy winds. Anyone in their right mind would rush to take a cab back to their apartments and huddle in homes filled with warmth, children, and laughter.

Good thing Kathy had never considered herself to be in her right mind.

Where is that bridge again? I don’t remember.

Kathy’s fists clenched around a white envelope. She had spent the past week resisting the urge to tear the photograph into a million pieces and scatter it to the wind like the remnants of her shattered heart. And yet, something always held her back.

Maybe it was nostalgia. Maybe it was bitterness. 

Maybe it was a false hope that time could be reversed.

I could just ignore her letter. Maybe she won’t show up, and I’ll be alone again.

It had been so long since Kathy and Cynthia had last met. After everything that had happened between them, they never should meet again. It would only complicate their relationship further and result in unnecessary pain.

Still, they were destined to meet again at some point.

Staggering forward, Kathy leaned against a tree and clutched her stomach with shallow breaths. The bridge was only a short distance away.

I can’t do this. How could she do this to me? Are we just going to act like nothing happened?

Sliding down the trunk’s rough surface, Kathy ripped open the envelope and pulled out two pieces of paper. The first was a tear-stained letter with the following words:

Kathy,

It has been many years since we last spoke. Do you still think about me? I know I think about you every day. If you want to know why I wrote to you, meet me at our bridge on November 21 at 7 pm. Any later, and I know we will never see each other again.

Cynthia

The second paper was a black and white photograph with two familiar, smiling faces. Kathy ran her fingers along the edges, resisting the urge to flip the picture over and read the note on the other side.

The time read 6:55 pm. Kathy didn’t want to move, but heaven knew what Cynthia would do if she failed to appear.

Stuffing the papers back into the envelope, Kathy wiped away the tears that had appeared at the corners of her eyes. Her feet were starting to blister in her heels, but she ignored the pain as she stood and continued walking toward the bridge. 

6:56 pm.

Only a few more paces and the bridge would be in sight.

6:57 pm.

The stone structure was right in front of her.

6:58 pm.

She could always turn back. There was still time.

6:59 pm.

“Cynthia!”

Kathy breathed heavily as she stumbled onto the bridge. She cursed as her heel wedged itself between the stones, and she ripped off her shoes. She’d never liked that pair much anyway.

7:00 pm.

“Cynthia!”

A woman stood on the bridge’s railing, scarlet light from the setting sun dancing off her golden hair. She turned at the sound of Kathy’s voice.

“Kathy…”

Kathy hurried forward, stopping only an arm’s distance from where Cynthia stood.

“Cynthia, you get down from there right now.”

Cynthia didn’t move. She only glanced at her watch and smiled.

“You came, Kathy. Right on the dot.”

Kathy wanted to reach out and grab the other woman’s hand, to hold her in her arms and never let go. Instead, she stood with tightly clenched fists.

“Cynthia, if you don’t get off that railing right now, I swear I won’t listen to a word you have to say.”

“If you insist.”

Cynthia dropped onto the bridge’s stone pathway. Kathy was relieved she hadn’t fallen the other way, but her expression remained neutral.

“What the hell, Cynthia? Can’t you go a day in your life without being overdramatic?”

“You know me. Drama is my specialty.”

Kathy closed her eyes, feeling frustration and gratitude welling up inside her.

“Why did you write to me, Cynthia? It’s been five years.”

Cynthia’s face remained unchanged save for the slight wrinkle in her brow.

“I know.”

“No contact at all. You disappeared and left me with nothing but that stupid letter. I thought I’d never see you again, but here you are. Married. You have a daughter.”

“I know.”

“And what do I see when I show up? The love of my life is about to jump off this damn bridge.”

“I know.”

Kathy’s laugh was incredulous.

“‘I know?’ Is that all you can say? ‘I know?’ What were you going to do if I just didn’t show up? Give up on everything you’ve worked for? Leave your child and husband behind? Leave me behind again? Is that really what you want?”

Cynthia stared at Kathy, unblinking.

“Do I have anything left to live for?” she said. “My husband abandoned me last month. My daughter has been ill these past few weeks, and I don’t know if she’s going to make it. And you…I wouldn’t have been surprised if you never wanted to see me again. And yet here you are.”

Kathy’s stomach twisted.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I would have loved to meet your daughter. I would have helped you deal with your husband leaving. Hell, I would have come to your wedding! But you know what happened instead? You left me. You left me without so much as a goodbye.”

“Kathy…”

“Don’t you ‘Kathy’ me! Do you know how much it hurt to get that note? To think that you never wanted to see me again?”

Cynthia bit her lip, her shoulders trembling as Kathy recited that tragic letter.

My Dearest Kathy,

I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes upon you. You have filled my days with sunshine I never thought I would experience. With a heavy heart, I write to inform you that our relationship must end with this letter. I am to be married to a man of my parents’ choosing. This marriage is not one of love but of convenience. My fiancé’s wealth will rescue my family from their financial struggles and allow me to live comfortably for the rest of my life.

I know we promised each other that we would have that little cottage in the countryside and a yard full of chickens. You know that it was all just a wonderful dream. There is no way for two women to obtain the happiness we desire under society’s watchful eyes. I have made this decision so that both of us may live our lives without judgment. I hope you find another person who will bring you as much happiness as you have to me.

All my love,

Cynthia.

Cynthia stumbled back, gripping the edge of the railing.

“You memorized it.”

“How could I not memorize it?” Kathy said. “Those words have haunted my every waking hour for five years. You broke my heart, Cynthia.”

Kathy whipped out the envelope and brandished it in the other woman’s face.

“And you think you can just send this out of the blue? And decide that you’re going to kill yourself if I don’t show up?”

Cynthia’s knuckles were white. Her disheveled hair only added to her pitiful state.

“Yes,” she whispered. “What else was I supposed to do?”

Kathy couldn’t hold back any longer. She flung herself towards Cynthia and pulled her into an embrace. The two women collapsed to the ground, sobbing as if the world were burning around them.

“I thought I lost you, Cynthia,” Kathy said. “I’ve wanted to find you all these years, but I was scared. I thought you hated me. I didn’t want to ruin your marriage.”

“I never loved him, Kathy. I only married Robert to protect my family, but he left me for another woman. I should never have agreed to the arrangement.”

“No.”

Kathy brushed a stray hair out of Cynthia’s eyes. Her eyes were the same deep blue as the last time she had seen them.

“I understand why you did it,” Kathy said. “You were scared. You didn’t want to disappoint your parents. But it hurt, knowing that the woman I loved chose a life of comfort over a life with me. Especially when I knew I would do all in my power to make you happy.”

Kathy opened the envelope and pulled out the photograph inside. She placed it in Cynthia’s hand.

“Here. I believe this belongs to you.”

It was a picture. A picture of two girls holding hands in a garden, one girl kissing the other on the cheek. The black and white photograph could never convey the beauty of the reds, pinks, and yellows of the flowers blooming that spring day.

It was Kathy and Cynthia, five years ago.

Kathy flipped the picture over, revealing a note on the other side.

Happy Birthday, Cynthia,

I thought I’d keep this photo for myself, but where’s the fun in that? I already have that handkerchief embroidered with violets you gave me for my birthday this year. I want you to have something that will remind you of me every day. One day, we’ll have our house in the countryside. Just wait a little longer.

All my love,

Kathy

“This belongs to you,” Kathy said. “I knew if I didn’t return it I would regret it for the rest of my life.”

Cynthia clutched the photograph to her chest, tears staining the white fabric of her dress.

“Thank you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Kathy kissed Cynthia’s cheek.

“I love you, Cynthia. I’ll never stop loving you, as long as I live.”

“I love you, too, Kathy. I love you so much.”

A single photograph delivered to a person on the edge of despair. What would have happened if the women had never reunited? 

One might have continued to live in loneliness, yearning for a life by her lover’s side that could never be. The other would have sunk into the river’s unfeeling depths, leaving behind a sickly daughter without a mother to care for her.

The two women would never have felt the joy of learning to love again.

The world may not have been irreversibly altered by that night, but that photograph would leave a lasting mark on their personal histories.