A PERFECT RENDEZVOUS

The Truth

Harry nodded and turned. Quickly opening the envelope with his thumb, he started out of the living room, intending to go to his room, but the dining room was closer so he went there instead, neither caring nor realizing he was still partially in view of his guests. He braced himself for another condescending lecture from Zayn about the infantile absurdity of giving any importance to their relationship in Colorado, but when he unfolded the pages and began to read, the tenderness and joy that exploded in his heart healed all his wounds. The world fell away and all that existed for him was the unbelievable words he was reading and the incredible man who had written them to him without ever intending for him to see them...

'My darling Harry, I know you'll never see this letter, but it helps to write to you every day. It keeps you close to me. God, I miss you so. You haunt every hour of my life. I wish I'd never met you. No—I don't mean that! What good would my life be without my memories of you to make me smile.

I keep wondering if you're happy. I want you to be. I want you to have a glorious life. That's why I couldn't say the things I knew you wanted to hear when we were together. I was afraid if I did, you'd wait for me for years. I knew you wanted me to say I loved you. Not saying that to you was the only unselfish thing I did in Colorado, and now I regret even that.

I'd give up all my life to have one year with you. Six months. Three. Anything.

You stole my heart in just a few days, darling, but you gave me your heart, too. I know you did—I could see it in your eyes every time you looked at me.

I don't regret the loss of my freedom any more or rage at the injustice of the years I spent in prison. Now, my only regret is that I can't have you. You're young, and I know you'll forget about me quickly and go on with your own life. That's exactly what you should do. It's what you must do. I want you to do that, Harry.

That's such a lousy lie. What I really want is to see you again, to hold you in my arms, to make love to you over and over again until I've filled you so completely that there's no room left inside of you for anyone but me, ever. I never thought of sexual intercourse as 'making love' until you. You never knew that.

Sometimes I break out in a cold sweat because I'm afraid I got you pregnant. I know I should have told you to abort my baby if I ever could get you pregnant. I knew it in Colorado, but God, I didn't want you to, Harry. I never got chance to ask you if you could get pregnant so I am asking this now Harry.

Wait—I just thought of a solution that never occurred to me before. I know I have no right to ask you to have my baby, but there's a way to work it out, if you're only willing: You could take a leave of absence and go away—I'll see that you have plenty of money to compensate for what you lose from your job and to pay all your expenses. Then when the baby is born, I'd like you to take it to my grandmother. If you really are pregnant and you're willing to do this for me, I'll write to her in advance and explain about everything. For all her shortcomings, the woman has never turned away from a responsibility in her life, and she'll see that our baby is properly raised. She has control of what would have been a very large inheritance of mine; a tiny part of that inheritance will be more than enough to pay for all the baby's expenses and education.

You were right when you said I shouldn't have closed the door on my family and burned my bridges. There were things I could have told my grandmother, even after I left home, that would have neutralized her hatred. You were right when you said that I loved and admired her when I was growing up. You were right about everything, and if I could change things now, I would.

I've decided to send this letter to you after all. It's a mistake. I know it is, but I can't stop myself. I have to tell you what to do if you're pregnant. I can't bear the thought that you won't realize there's an alternative to an abortion.