VIRAGO

lost love letters

It was a perfectly imperfect evening for Zoey Richardson, she had a love for the simplicity of life. Like having dinner around the table as a family, even though she was just a guest, she felt more comfortable and welcome in John's home than in her childhood home. Despite the kids bickering and throwing bits of food at each other leaving a mess, it was wholesome to her, to be a part of it.

So as John went to put the children to sleep, Zoey began to clean up the kitchen by dim candlelight. She gave Benny the leftovers he had been patiently begging for the past hour and made a start on washing up. It was difficult for her not to get lost in daydreams, with the steady melody of the autumn downpour washing over small health.

By the time she had finished, it was around 10 in the evening leaving her little time to ready herself for bed before the lull of sleep beckoned her for the rest of her remaining consciousness. Ever since she began to sleep in John's room, her guilt-ridden insomnia had lessened, as though John's hold shielded her from its call.

Dragging her aching feet up the stairs, Benny following closely behind, she was eager to change into her sleepwear and get under the covers. But upon entering her room, she was taken aback when she found John standing there with a face like thunder and 20 odd letters spread out on top of the bed. "Who's Sam Marcello?"

She had faltered as soon as she heard his name out loud. It felt like it had been a thousand years since she'd heard it. She remained by the entrance of the door, her hand frozen on the handle. "W-what?"

"Sam fucking Marcello." He repeated himself, clenching his jaw in doing so- John hadn't felt anger like this since he'd figured out his brother set him up for an arranged marriage without his permission. "You must know who he is seeing as he's sent you almost 100 bloody love letters!" The risen level of volume made Zoey feel small again, stuck in place.

"What are you doing going through my things?" It hadn't come out in her usual sassy tone, nor did she stand her ground or stare him down like she often did when faced with confrontation. Instead, it came out like a creak as she neared the opposite side of the bed and began carefully collecting each individual one, handling them so delicately as though she thought if they were touched in any other way they'd crumble.

"Katie found them. I took them off her before she could read them." He explained harshly, watching her collect them up only added to his frustration and jealousy, as even a blind man would be able to see how much the letters clearly meant to her. "So who is he?"

"John it's none of your business." She warned him, her voice had no emotion, nothing, and yet her eyes looked more overwhelmed by sadness than they did the day she found out Emma was killed.

"It fucking is when you're seeing me, who is he? Where does he live?-"

"He's dead!" She cut him off, tears began to slip down her cheek as she watched the realization wash over his face and then guilt at the emotional turmoil he had just caused.

"Zo, I'm so-"

"I think you should leave." She'd snapped out of her melancholy even if it was just for this final moment in their conversation and wiped away the tears. At least John went to approach her, with pleading eyes, reaching to at least give her some comfort as she began to sniffle a little, "Zoey-"

"Just go!" He could see she was done with this for the night, she needed to be alone or at least away from him, gulping he nodded in defeat and left her. And as soon as she heard that door click shut, she'd fallen to her bed. She felt like she was one more blow away from breaking as the tears came gushing out much like the rain outside, her heart felt as though those temporary stitches she had put in place, that anger for revenge she had used to make herself stand again had been ripped away, and now she was bleeding out. He was still with her in every thought and every daydream and hope, he was and always would be her first love, the first man to show her what it was to be loved. He was imprinted on her soul forever and that's what hurt the most, a forever, an eternity without hearing his voice or seeing his smile ever again, it destroyed her so deeply and the most painful part of it all was that he would still be alive if he had never loved her. She was his death sentence.

Zoey had let herself forget or at least refocus her mind, and John- she thought she could love, in fact, she knows she could. He was everything she grew up wanting, he was every comfort she was denied and now that she and he were going steady- well, it felt like a cruel joke from God to keep her soul stuck in the past when everything she'd dreamed of was finally within her grasp.

Curling up into a ball, she hadn't bothered to get changed in the end or even get under the covers, her heavy sobs drained whatever was left of her will. Recognizing this behavior from his beloved owner, Benny had played the role he had played many times in the past, jumping up onto her bed, letting her cling onto him as though he were a life buoy until her eyes has surrendered to sleep.