The LA sun beams down on my back hotter than usual. Beads of sweat drip down my neck, pooling slightly at my clavicle as i pound my fists against the solid canvas of the punching bag. There's something about a good workout that usually releases my frustrations but today my chest is only getting tighter.

Thomson is here, barging in with his over inflated ego and sense of superiority, ruining my investigation. He thinks I'll just give in, sweep the conspiracies under the rug just like he does to protect this false sense of security and get a pat on the back. He should know better by now!

I didn't leave my life in New York behind to get stonewalled. I'm here to catch murderers and stop corruption. I didn't leave Angie for this!

Oh god, Angie. She must be furious with me but, then again I don't think she has it in her to be angry with anyone for too long. Except Dottie, she hates Dottie Underwood with all her heart. Perhaps even as much as she loves me.

My fist connects with the bag harder the more I think about it. Angie wanted to come to LA. She begged but i wouldn't let her. Anywhere I go trouble seems to follow and Angie deserves to be safe and protected. She deserves a life free from fear, shame, and pain. She deserves better than me. Blood stains seep through the wrapping around my knuckles but I go at it again and again and again.

Angie loves me, she really does. I see it in the way her innocent face lights up around me, how she goes out of her way to care for me no matter what the trouble. She's seen all of me, after solving a particularly difficult case, after my run in with Dottie that left me with more bruises than skin, when I've had just a touch too much whiskey and can't stop yelling and crying about the war. She loves me despite my flaws and I've ruined it. Why do I insist on being such a damn idiot!

"Miss Carter!" Jarvis hastily puts down his tray of tea and rushes over to me, but I keep punching the canvas even as my eyes become cloudy with tears and sweat. "Good heavens, stop!"

Jarvis grabs my arms with surprising strength, forcing them to my sides. My chest is tight and my breathing comes in short, shallow gasps. "She deserves better, why hasn't she realized that yet?"

"What are you talking about Miss Carter?"

Jarvis lets go of me but I don't move. It's like all the stress and turmoil I've been experiencing is pressing down on my shoulders and gluing my feet to the ground. Tears drip down my cheeks only for me to furiously wipe them away. "The cruelest thing in life, Mr. Jarvis, is false hope."

I gesture to a letter on the table that is already worn from how many times I've opened it in the mere week it's been in my possession. Angie sprayed it with that perfume she knows I like; if I close my eyes and breathe in deeply enough I can still smell it.

Scanning Angie's slightly sloppy, sweet font Jarvis's expression turns to one of understanding. "Miss Martinelli."

I nod. "Angie."

Jarvis wraps me in a brief but comforting embrace. "You know where the telephone is Miss Carter, don't be afraid to use it."

"What if she doesn't want to hear from me?"

"Trust me, she does. If she loves you even half as much as that letter implies she wants to hear from you."

Without another word I place the letter in my breast pocket and retire to my room. I'm terribly conflicted. I miss Angie more than anything. She's the only person I want to talk to after a long day, the only one I want to confess everything to. I love her and I'm stupid for it but it's too late.

I thought keeping my distance would keep Angie safe, that maybe after a while of unreturned calls and unsent letters she could forget about me and move on. Stupid. Now I've only succeeded in hurting the both of us and I don't think I can make this right. My hands tremble as I unfold the letter one more time.

Dear Peggy,

I hope work isn't keeping you too busy to write to me. They overwork you Pegs, and definitely don't value you enough. But if they are at least do something fun for me while you're there. See a show!

The good-old automat hasn't given me a second to breathe since you left. It's just one jerk ordering breakfast after another. No one even orders tea anymore. We even stopped carrying any since our best costumer left. I miss her very much...

Howard's house feels so empty without you here with me so I got us a cat! You like cats right? His name is Earl, like your earl grey tea. His favorite spot is the chair that you used to read in every night before bed. Sometimes, when i get home really late and I'm beyond exhausted, my eyes play tricks on me and I see you sitting there with old Earl on your lap.

When are you coming home Pegs? I want to be mad at you for leaving or at least not writing back but for some reason I can't. I just miss you so damn much it's pathetic. You don't have to write back though. I'm sorry I keep pressuring you to. It'd just be nice to know that you're still alive and thinking of me, but I know you are. I would be able to tell if you died, even from 3000 miles away i could sense it. Anyway, stay safe English.

All my love,

Angie

xxx

AN: so what do you think? chapter 2 should be up within the next week. I haven't written anything in a while and I'm trying to get back into the swing of it plus I just love these two. Reviews and helpful critiques are appreciated! Thank you for reading!