I found the letter on my desk at work this morning. Heavy cream coloured paper with my name in Andy's familiar handwriting. He'd taken care, I could tell. It wasn't his usual scrawl. I looked through the window, but the murderroom was empty still. He must have come in during the night or early morning to leave it here for me to find, I realised.
Oh Andy. Damn. Now I'm swearing and I never swear. We didn't talk much at the Nutcracker last night. Rusty did a better job of playing buffer at the actual event - led on no doubt by a feeling of guilt because I did take him aside during the intermission and spoke to him about speculating about Andy's and my relationship in front of Nicole. We didn't have the full conversation, but there'll be time for that on the weekend.
I turned the letter around in my hands. It felt thick like there was more than just one sheet of paper inside. I glanced at my watch. Just before 7 am; I might have fifteen minutes to myself, maybe less if Andy was around already. This was something I would want to read in private and my office wasn't a private place, not even with the blinds closed. I could leave, but where would I go? Home was too far to be back in time and a café just wouldn't provide me the sheltered environment I craved for reading Andy's words. It would have to wait until the evening, until I was able to go home, I decided with a sigh. Hopefully we wouldn't catch a new case today and could all go home at a reasonable hour.
It was a surprise, that letter. I had hoped that Andy would reach out to me, that we would find a chance to at least speak to each other without the prying ears and eyes of our children. I liked his approach of writing me a letter, letting me decide when to listen to him in my own time. I liked being given that freedom – even if I had no idea yet what the letter actually said.
I had barely slept the night before caught between anger and hurt, tempted to call Andy and scream abuse at him or confess my love. Because love it was. It wasn't just an infatuation or tender feelings for a friend. I had lain awake crying last night after coming home because I realised what I had possibly lost. My best friend, my confidante, a trusted officer and - and that was what hurt me most – the man who could become so much more for me than a mere friend.
Maybe Rusty did have a point that from the outside the time Andy and I spent together seemed like more than friendship. Maybe we had actually been dating without ever calling it that? It had all grown out of a drink after work when Rusty had finally settled in and since then, we had been spending a lot of time together - and we had both enjoyed it: the easy conversations, the laughter, the companionship and familiarity.
Still, not a reason to let his family believe we actually were a couple – and certainly not a reason to hide that from me.
My phone announced a message – from Andy, of course. He knew I'd be at work about now. While I pulled the phone out of my bag, I wondered briefly why he wasn't here yet.
'I know you won't have time to read my letter right now, but I wanted you to have it before I lost courage. I've let Provenza know I'm taking a personal day and to call me if I'm needed. A.'
Provenza. What had he been thinking about Andy and me? Andy had mentioned his suspicions when he saw my divorce papers. Oh my word! Had everyone seen it but me? Damn. I should have taken a personal day today, but now I couldn't anymore. The team would think something was really going on between Andy and me if we both took the same day off. Damn. Again with the swearing. What was that man doing to me?
Andy Flynn. Years of fighting and barely tolerating each other, then this completely unexpected and wonderful friendship. A true friend, someone I trusted intuitively and almost completely. I would have seen the humour in his family making assumptions about us - if he had only shared them with me.
Oh, Andy. Damn, I should stop thinking about him. I just…if I was being honest, I just wanted to see him and shake him and let out all my frustration and tell him … well, what?
The day was mercifully calm and I busied myself with paperwork until I was finally able to leave, Andy's letter safely tucked away in my purse. I briefly considered calling him or driving past his house, but I should really read the letter first. He had gone through the trouble of writing it and leaving it for me to find, he had arranged for me to have the space today to get back to him in my own time. So maybe it wasn't the brightest idea to turn up on his doorstep unprepared. I just hope that, well, what exactly did I hope for?
Once I was in the comfort and privacy of my bedroom, I took the letter turned it around slowly before running my finger underneath the flap to pry it open. My heart was beating a little more quickly and I remember the surprise at noticing that my hands were actually shaking.
Sharon,
I had started off by saying 'Dear Sharon', but I don't want to assume anything anymore. I know letting assumptions continue is what got us here and if I could go back and change things, I would. If I could go back and be honest with my family I would. If I could go back and not hurt you, I would.
Sharon, I know that I have ruined our beautiful friendship and the trust you had in me once. I can't say how sorry I am and if I could go back, I would … but I am repeating myself.
I just want you to know how important you are to me. Far more important than a college and commanding officer should be. Our friendship surprised me, you surprised me and in the process, you took my heart.
At first, I let Nicole and my family believe we were together because she seemed to be looking at me differently with you around. I don't know whether you realise just how awkward and insecure I felt with my family before you joined me. When you were by my side it was easy. You have a talent to charm people while making it look so effortless.
Sharon, they did look at me differently because you were with me, and not only that. I am different when I am with you. I'm more relaxed knowing you are by my side. My heart beats a little quicker hearing your voice. That's why I didn't want to explain our friendship to Nicole. You remember that, don't you? When I said I didn't want to and you offered to help me do it – just like you have always done.
Let me be honest: somewhere along the line I had started hoping that what my family believed about us might become reality. Because I wanted to be more than just your friend. I still do, Sharon, even though I know that I have lost that chance once and for all. I could kick myself for hurting you.
If there was one wish I could have granted, it would be that you forgive me and that you can let me make it up to you. I don't know how, I just know I can't leave things between us as I left them last night. Please give me a chance to win your trust again, Sharon.
You are a wonderful woman, Sharon, you are warm and caring and I will never forget a single moment we have spent together. From the early fights when you were investigating me to our first moments outside the morgue when you joined Major Crimes to our dinners, walks and dances, the movies and the games we went to and all the moments we laughed and cried together. I will forever cherish our dance at Nicole's wedding and how you held my hand at my sister's funeral. I count myself lucky that we were once friends.
I am sorry I hurt you, Sharon. Please allow me to win back your trust.
With all my love,
Andy.
P.S.: I am going to prepare my transfer request tomorrow and will put it on your desk. Please do with it as you see fit.
