Letter Fifteen

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Dear Ryland,

No matter what they say to me, I know it was my fault. I'm the reason Rocky left that night. God, I remember it so clearly.

"Ellington, can we talk?" Rocky was standing right there, a nervous look crossing his face. I wasn't sure what to do. So I simply nodded, and he lead me to his room.

"Ellington, I just... I'm still in love with you. It's terrible. I shouldn't be. You're with my sister and-" now would be the moment in the stereotypical romance books where I would kiss him and say "I'm still in love with you too!" But I'm not a cheater. And this isn't a stereotypical romance book.

"Rocky, I'm sorry. I'm with your sister. I love you, but not like that." Then he started sobbing. And he ran. I felt terrible. I knew it was a lie. I was still in love with Rocky. But I was also in love with Rydel.

I sat sobbing for the next couple of hours, and then the unexpected phone call came. Ryland was dead and I knew it was my fault.

That was the first time I remember truly hating myself.

Love,
Ellington

Dear Ryland (Triolgly to 'Dear Rocky') {Wattys 2016}Where stories live. Discover now