Love Letter

Ian:

I wanted the months to hurry up and for Thanksgiving to come. Of course, I was nervous about revealing my true identity, but I was excited about spending more time with Lynne. It would be the perfect example of why we should move in with one another. The book tour would go up until the week of Christmas, and then we would be able to go home and celebrate with whoever. I knew I would be with Lynne without a doubt in my mind. Things had been great between us since she had opened up more and told me about what happened her senior year in high school. I still had questions about it, but I never knew how to start that conversation.

How do you start it? "So you know that time you tried to kill yourself?" or would I say, "how could you be so careless to even think about taking your life?" I had woken up a handful of times imagining walking into her room and finding her wrist slit open. It was a hard pill to swallow, especially since she was the love of my life. I knew she was fragile. I just didn't realize how fragile until that night.

"I'm excited about the book tour," I say to Lynne that night. She was the commander of my kitchen again; the twins were mad she was no longer cooking for them.

"I knew you would be," she says while making soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for us. "It's going to be weird, though," she says, shuttering.

"What will be?" I ask.

"When you drop the veal, so to speak, and the world will know who you are. I know that a lot of authors are not like movie stars or singers, but I just worry that it will be different with you."

"I know – I will have to hide my feelings even more at movie premieres," I say, joking, trying to lighten the mood.

"I brought you something," Lynne says, walking toward the door, bringing in the shopping bag I had spied earlier, wondering what could be in it. "I slipped out at lunch and got this for you," she says.

In her hands facing me, she held a picture frame; the picture was the two of us the night of the New Year's Eve party. The night Lynne had found out who I really was.

"I know it wasn't the best night for the both of us, but now we know what we can come back from," she says, sounding extremely cheesy, but I loved everything about it.

"Thank you," I say, walking into the living room and placing it on my fireplace mantel. I knew that she didn't like the apartment, and I had been meeting with my realtor and looking at different places. After Lynne had made her observations the second time she had been here, I didn't find my apartment as cozy as I once used to. "So, have you heard anything about Luke?" I asked.

"The twins promised to talk to him. Who knew a weeklong stay would turn into a few months" she says. "But if they do not talk to him though, I may just have to talk to him myself."

"Nah... I like you hiding out here every night," I say, smiling at her. Lynne had been staying over almost every night since the night of the gala event. We hadn't adventure much farther than kissing when it came to our physical relationship. I wasn't going to push her; I knew when we were ready, it would happen.

Lynne ate very little, and I noticed she was thinking something through. "What is it?" I ask, hoping she is still not worried about the book tour.

"I'm a virgin," she blurts out, her face turning red. I had suspected this could be the case.

"Okay," I say, not knowing how she wants me to respond to this.

"Okay," she says while pushing her soup around some more. "I just don't want you to get bored with me and our sleepovers," she says, avoiding eye contact with me.

"I am not going to get bored... Now go change into your pajamas. I have something I want to give you," I say, swatting her butt as she walks out of the kitchen. Lynne was against moving in, but she wasn't opposed to moving in some of her items. Her clothes were almost taking over my whole closet. I had sent the realtor an email letting him know to find properties with his and her closets in them.

"Okay, I'm ready," she said as I walked into the room to find her in the silk purple pajamas I had bought for her the other day.

"I like that color on you," I say, letting my eyes rest on her. I could get Lynne to blush with the littlest compliment, and I knew that seeing her blush would never get boring. I open the top drawer of my dresser and hand it to her, the final draft of Love Letter.

"It's done?" she says, looking up at me. I shake my head, handing it to her. I let her know that I had told Jimmy that you would be late for work tomorrow, if not at all.

"You are expecting me to pull an all-nighter reading it?" she asks excitedly.