Ok, so I'm going to beg for reviews. I don't mind if they're personal messages, it's all about having some feedback. This story has been written on a whim, I half imagined it one night when I was camping in the middle of nowhere and the howling wolves kept me awake (yeah it was cool). So please, even if you hate it, give some feedback!

Chapter Four

My life has become very empty and very full all at once. It has been a month since I left Lost Lake, a month since I left Joey and a month since I started my treatment. My reaction to the drugs, the treatment in general, is not as bad as I've witnessed but it is still bad. I seem to respond well but for every step in the right direction there is a step in the wrong direction. And I miss her. It's strange because the time we had together was so small in the grand scheme of things but I literally crave her. Jack sends me photographs that I print off and take to the hospital. Joey is "ok" he tells me. That's all he tells me because I asked not to be told, too afraid that any news would have me begging for her. The worse I feel, the more my body deteriorates in an effort to kill the cancer, my body muscle going, my hair falling out, my face puffing with steroids, well the more desperate I become for her, the more I hang onto those memories.

It's strange becoming a patient in the hospital where I work, and I actually find that I am able to work at times. I have only a few shifts and they are shortened. I fit them in and around my treatment so that I'm not suffering too badly from the effects. The staff are obviously sympathetic but it feels good to distract myself, to maintain something that is mine. I wear a beanie hat but I think the patients can tell I'm sick and they look at me with pity. It's obvious but I think in many ways it's made me a better doctor and in some ways a better doctor for them.

I am in hospital for a few days when Andie visits me, full of love and sorrow. It's funny how little she sways my emotions now. Even as she held the bowl I puked into I didn't want her. I don't even hate her anymore, or feel angry or anything really. Between puking I tell her I fell in love with Jack's friend. She doesn't know how to take it. She's angry and she questions my sanity but she comes back to see me and it's nice, because she can't hate me, not right now.

One day when I am in the hospital where I have been for over twelve hours Doug and Gretchen come in. Doug is holding a letter in his hand that he gives to me.

'Swung by your place on the way and the postie had been. Thought you might want that,' he says at the same time as Gretchen says,

'How you doing bro?' chucking a couple of books beside the bed for me.

'Fucking great,' I say my voice hoarse from puking. I pick up the letter and my heart pounds because it's post marked Lost Lake. I stare at it completely absorbed by the thin slanted writing on the envelope, so engrossed in all this small envelope might enclose that I completely ignore both Gretchen and Doug. It's hard to hear with blood pounding in my ears.

'Who...is...the...letter...from?' Gretchen sounds out each word like I'm an idiot. I glare at her.

'I think...I think it's from Joey,' I say and I fucking blush. Gretchen doesn't miss that and neither does Doug.

'She's writing you love letters?' Gretchen gives me a "go buddy" shoulder squeeze whilst Doug asks,

'So are you going to open it?'

'I don't know,' I admit.

'Oh come on Pacey, of course you're going to open it,' Gretchen's mouth has fallen open.

'He doesn't have to open it,' Doug defends.

'Of course he does. He's in love with the girl,' Gretchen hip checks Doug who does the same back.

'What if she's only writing to tell me she hopes I'm ok? Or worse that whilst what we had was fun, it's in the past? Or what if she's just writing to tell me I forgot something, you know like my favourite bruins boxers?'

'You are ridiculous Pacey Witter,' it's Doug that says it and I'm surprised.

'It is not ridiculous to defend the only joy you have. I only make it through each day because I think about her.'

'Just open the goddamned letter,' Gretchen says.

'No,' I say staring at it in a lovesick way.

'Gah,' Gretchen says and snatches it from my hand, ripping through that precious envelope with her writing on it, with so much possibility inside of it. She stands and reads it silently, both Doug and I watching her.

'Well?' Doug asks and Gretchen looks at me. I nod and so she reads aloud.

'Dear Pacey.

I've been missing you since you left and whilst I completely understand that you don't want me to see you whilst you are having treatment, I'm not sure there needs to be a complete severing of everything. I don't like not waking up next to you but I absolutely loathe not talking to you. I don't even enjoy the solitude of my house anymore.

I thought about sending you emails but I know you will be in and out of the hospital and they don't always allow electronics, so I opted for an old fashioned love letter. The week we spent together seems a little hazy now with the passing of time, but I don't think for a second that I imagined you. I don't think I imagined how much we laughed, or how easy it was to talk to one another, or how crazy you made me feel, so crazy that I could scarcely let go of you.

You told me a story one day, a story about high school. You said that you began to flunk out and you turned on yourself. I remember the skeleton you shared with me. Here's one of mine. I do indeed run away. Everything Jack warned you about is true. Only he didn't need to warn you because you planned to run away from me. Our skeletons collaborated - you don't want to inflict your sickness on me, you feel like it's too much and the destruction of the beautiful thing between us will be "your fault." And I don't have to run away because you've run away for me. Well I don't want to run away. But you see every beautiful thing becomes tarnished with time, the tarnish adding to the story of the item, to the history, how it is treasured. If you won't see me please at least write to me. I understand that you won't always feel great, so just send me a memory, any memory. Even one word, a picture, your name.

You didn't want to make me choose - ask you to stay or go with you, or break your heart and do neither. Well I'm making you choose because my heart is broken without you. Write me back or toss this letter in the garbage - it is your choice.

I found your pebbles, your message. I have to assume that they said the truth and I hope that if you still feel that way you'll write to me.

Love

Joey' Gretchen stops reading and both she and Doug stare at me. I do brilliantly and burst into tears.


Six weeks into my treatment and Jack comes to see me. It is so good to see him though it is obvious he finds it distressing to see me so sick. His visit coincides with a surgical procedure, so he spends most of his time in the hospital with me. He talks about Joey. He doesn't even mean to and I actually find it helps, so it becomes addictive - me asking him more and more stories.

'Pace man why don't you come visit us? Come when you're on a treatment break. Just book a flight and do it.'

'I have work,' I say really too embarrassed by my physical state to see Joey. My emotional state isn't much better at times.

'That's an excuse,' he says and I blow up at him,

'Of course it's a fucking excuse,' I shout at him, 'look the fuck at me? I don't want the girl I love to see me like this. I can't stop fucking puking, I have no hair, no fucking eyelashes, my face is swollen up like a potato and I can't stop crying. I'm trying to be brave but I can't be brave all the time. If I go and see her, if I step in that house I'd honestly lose it. I want a chance with her if I survive this. I don't want to drag her through it.'

'She misses you Pace,' he ignores my angry outburst entirely. 'She needs you.'

'Needs me?' I scoff, 'needs this,' I gesture to myself.

'I think you are doing both yourself and her a disservice. She loves you. Not your body but you,' he says it and I remember the way she stared at me and said she was fixing me in her head. I offered her a photo and she said a photo wouldn't do it.

'You think she loves me?' I ask because that made my heart swell.

'Yeah,' he nods. 'I think she's lonely without you and Jo's never been lonely.'

'What makes you say that?' I'm like an addict, just desperate for any news of her.

'She comes to town everyday. She's decided to move to town for the winter, into the place she has there.'

'Oh,' I don't know what to say because the thought of her beautiful house sitting empty, the thought of Joey at a loss, well I don't like it.

'At least write her back.'

'You know she wrote?'

'She confided when you didn't reply and I said I was coming to visit you.'

'She really wants me to?'

'Yes, she really wants you to.'


I write her a letter. My hand is sure as it runs across the paper Doug brought in for me. My ink is black which is what I prefer. When it comes to putting pen to paper I find I don't even need to think about what to write,

Dear Joey,

I meant what I didn't quite have the guts to say to your face. I love you. I perhaps love you even more now, even though we've been parted for far too long. Cancer treatment is what I thought it would be, but more painful to the soul than I thought it would be when I was the one administering treatment to others. My thoughts are very morose - well unless I am thinking of you, and so I try to always be thinking of you. It is actually pretty easy. The only time my thoughts of you turn morose is when I allow myself to consider the possibility of never seeing you again. I miss you. I miss you a lot.

You asked for a memory. I remember my dad ingraining the idea into me that I couldn't do something, that I was somehow lacking or incapable. When I was a kid I remember sitting in the living room. I must have been there a whole hour with this pack of cards, trying to turn it into a pyramid card house. Dad, he told me I was wasting my time, I'd never be able to do it, but I did. Then he knocked it down. I'm not even sure what would possess him. So I did it again. I guess I chose that memory as it's a reminder to be determined. When alls said and done I'm not actually sure what determination will do for me. I don't seem to get any better or any worse. I just feel like hell.

Let me tell you a fantasy instead. I've decided I want a horse. What use is a horse in Boston I hear you ask? Well if I'm ever better I guess I don't fancy Boston so much. I think horse riding near a lost lake would be much more fun.

I miss you and I love you,

Pacey

When the letter is written I give it to Jack to post before I can think about it too much. He has a very pleased grin on his face when I do.


Jack stays three days before he has to head home. After his visit time seems to stagnate. It moves forward endlessly, the days stretching with nothing but pain and sickness. I become too sick to work and I'm given sick leave. As another two weeks pass I begin to feel like I'm dying and I long for Joey even more.

It's around then that I receive another letter from Lost Lake. I stare at it for a long, long time but I don't open it. I'm in the hospital again. I have an infection and I've been extremely unwell. One of my siblings is usually there. Today it is two of them - it is again Doug that brings the letter when he and Gretchen visit.

'Is this the new thing we do with letters?' Gretchen asks, 'stare at the envelopes?'

'It's from Joey,' Doug tells her. He and Jack have been writing emails and I know that Jack stayed at his place when he came to see me.

'Honestly Pace,' Gretchen rolls her eyes. 'Her last letter was a love letter. This one is too.'

'Yeah I know. They just feel like something really precious.'

'God, I don't think I've ever seen you truly in love before,' Gretchen punches my knee and I glare at her. After a moment I open the envelope.

'Dear Pacey,

I feel that I must tell you that I responded with great maturity to receiving your letter and skipped through town. Bodie swears I was singing but I never sing so that can't be true. Maybe I was humming a little. I continued with the maturity thing and went straight to see Ned. Ned owns the local lumber mill and building company. I asked him to come by my place. He did and has drawn up plans for a stable. Now I'm not saying I expect you to live at my house, that would be a complete over assumption, but if I plan to buy you a horse well, why not have somewhere proper to house him?'

At this I begin to laugh out loud and I almost want to compose a response before I've finished the letter. Doug gives me a look,

'I told her I want a horse so she's building a stable. Actually building it,' I tell him and Doug grins.

'You have a very weird girlfriend,' Gretchen says.

'I have a girlfriend willing to fulfill my fantasies,' I tell her a little too smugly and she makes a face. It takes a moment for me to realize I just called Joey my girlfriend. I turn back to my letter,

'So it is very clear that I miss you. I have just about finished my book and am in the process of reading it to see if I've made any glaring errors. I'm not supposed to share manuscripts but knowing first hand how much you enjoyed Lost Lake book 1-5 I would consider sending you a draft. Of course I would need some begging. I tend to read out on the deck sofa. It's almost too hot, but when it becomes unbearable I go for a swim. I always feel close to you on that particular seat as it is where we first...well you know. I'm not good at writing dirty, but when I'm bored reading my mind falls on that particular moment - not that I ever get bored reading my wonderful novel of course:-) I do think about you a lot. Not just sex which does fill many moments, but the way you smile, or some dumb joke you made that had me laughing like a lunatic. I have a secret about you and I, but you need to write me back before I can possibly share. So please do.

I think about you a lot and hope that you are...not ok because I know you're not that, but somewhere above terrible. I miss you,

Love Joey'

I put the letter down and feel a smile on my face as I start to cry. Instead of waiting I write her straight back, even though Doug and Gretchen remain, both reading the books Gretchen brought in whilst they wait for me to finish.

Dear Joey,

What horse should we put in the stable?! You sure know how to make me laugh. You being you I assume that an actual stable is being built - have I mentioned how much I utterly adore you? From today onward I shall wear nothing but checked shirts, well those and hospital gowns. I'm not entirely sure why I believe checked shirts are necessary for horse riding but apparently Hollywood has cemented that notion well and truly into my brain. So what other fantasies should I share with you - seeing as you're in the business of fulfilling them...hmmm, there's you, me and a canoe, but actually you made that one happen. Then there's you and me in bed all day...hmmm you made that one happen...hmmm, let's look forward, you and me somewhere hot, but beautiful in a different way to Lost Lake, say somewhere like Florence, Italy. You could wear that cute sundress or maybe that beautiful sarong I stole from you and we could eat oodles of ice cream because there are no calories in ice cream.

I never told you that I like to sail. I once restored a storm wrecked boat. So maybe I could take you out sailing one day. I know you live no where near the coast but I'd love to sail down to the Florida Keys with you. We could have a nice large bed below deck, or even up on deck so I could do delectable things with you and then sound all deep talking bullshit about the stars. Do you know what? Pretty much anything with you is a fantasy. I'd take making breakfast, or doing house chores, or watching you write, or paddling a canoe, or eating salad because we can't be bothered to cook. Even shopping, and I hate shopping. Suffice to say I miss you too.

Doug and my sister Gretchen are waiting whilst I write this. They read your first letter. I was too much of a coward - I was scared it wouldn't say what I wanted it to. But it did. Gretch said I have a weird girlfriend. I'd never thought of you as my girlfriend before but I kind of like it, even if this is an unconventional relationship. I'll never forget your sister calling my cancer unconventional - I really liked that.

So Joey, please, please, please send me your manuscript when it's done. I would be entirely thrilled to read it. I think it would be a little like having you here. I am very tempted to say screw it and beg you to come, see me puke, see me looking like a bald potato, but I'm too cowardly for that. I think I would read it a hundred times if you gave me the chance. I have your entire series on my bedside table every time I'm in this place. So please, gorgeous girl, send me the book!

I better go, but I love you. I am ok. I am no nearer dead but no nearer well. I love you again.

Love Pacey xxxx

P.S. I want to live at your house.

P.P.S. I was thinking a black horse, or grey, or well I don't really care so long as it's got a nice personality.

P.P.P.S. I cannot begin to imagine what your secret is, so you better share in your next letter.

I put the letter in an envelope and address it, sealing it thoroughly.

'What did you say to your girlfriend?' Gretchen appraises me over the top of her book.

'I told her we were calling her my girlfriend.'

'You know it's weirder still that you call her that but won't see her?' Doug is now also appraising me over the top of his book.

'I consider the label a good thing and I'm not going to be brought down by the unique condition of our relationship,' I state in a stupidly good mood.

'You're happy, I'm happy,' Doug says simply.

'I'm as happy as a dying man can be,' I say glibly and both of them flinch.

'Please don't say that Pace,' Gretchen says and I feel a bit guilty.

'I'm not doing it on purpose.'

'Yeah Pacey Witter, the only man on earth to get cancer just to spite his dad.'

'Aaah yes the wonderful parental figure who loves me so much he's not yet mentioned the fact that I'm dying,' I grumble.

'He's upset,' Gretchen says trying to be helpful.

'Actually he's a ass,' Doug frowns and I think my brother is wonderful.


It's a couple of weeks before Joey writes again. It's not a good couple of weeks because I get another infection that has me hospitalized yet again and for the full two weeks. It begins to feel like I am living at the hospital, and the fact that they have me on oxygen makes me feel shit. My body needs to start functioning, fighting, otherwise I'll be dead far too soon.

The days have become like one big long blur and it is only the arrival of her letter that brightens things, that makes the passage of time become marked. When I get out I may just book a flight and go see Joey. Even the handwriting on the envelope makes my heart pound but also has me filled with an inner peace. Aah, cliche man is back. I have always been proud of my family black sheep status, always enjoyed being laid back, screw up Pacey who eventually turned good but always an avoider of the good old cliche, except now I'm in need of inner peace and it's a girl who provides it.

Joey addressed the letter to the hospital which means she must know I'm in here. I imagine Doug is talking to Jack, or maybe to Joey directly. Either way, I open my little envelope of happiness and three photos are enclosed, each one a different horse. I laugh loudly to my empty room.

Dear Pacey,

So I've looked into horses and these three are the nicest. The grey one is apparently a bit of a kicker but nice and fast, the white one is pretty but placid and the black one farts a lot, but is super affectionate. I obviously favour him, but it's our horse and I am, in this instance, happy to be swayed. Only I would like a photo of you in a checked shirt because I think you'd look pretty good (hot).

I have to say that without your company, chores are once again chores, rather than things I do whilst laughing and having impromptu sex. So I suggest we plan to go to the Florida Keys - when is up to you, or rather the bizarre governors of our relationship (I mean the cancer cells). I have never gone sailing but I cannot imagine any reason I would not enjoy sailing with you - well except perhaps sea sickness and too much fish in our diet. However, the idea of you sailing is one that gets my imagination into overdrive, and all I can say is I like it a lot. I also imagine a sailboat is a little steadier for sex compared to my canoe. I'm surprised we didn't go overboard. So talking of sex - that's what the big secret is. I thought you might be interested to know that on that evening on my deck, the two of us on my couch, when you undid my bikini bottoms - well that was the first time I'd ever had sex.'

Holy fuck. The letter drops to my bed and I'm ashamed to find myself incredibly turned on and also beyond shocked. I knew she wasn't super experienced because she was shy but I didn't for a second think she was a virgin. My cock throbs and my hand finds it under the sheets.

'Fuck,' I say the words out loud and then checking my door I relieve all the tension I can. I clean up the sizeable mess and blush at the empty room which is frankly ridiculous. I pick up her letter,

'Before you question anything it didn't hurt me whatsoever, and I was completely sure that it was exactly what I wanted. I actually think it was the best first time a girl ever had. I'm pretty sure that by admitting this to you I will seem irreparably young in your eyes, but I would like to point out that twenty two is not an unreasonable age to still be a virgin. I would also like to point out that I have never been one to dally in relationships that do not interest me. Hence, I've not had many relationships and none have been serious. Well except for you. Obviously.

So I'm going to go before I scare you away by sounding too serious about you. But I am - serious about you that is.

I aught to give you a quick memory, just in case you don't want to write a lengthy reply. Hmmm, let me think. My mom - she always cooked us bacon on the weekends and I love that smell. I haven't cooked it in years - I think we both now why, but that smell makes me happy. It's one of the best smells on earth. You're up in the top ten.

Love Joey'

I put down the letter but then pick it up and read it again. I do this several times over the course of the morning and when I'm finally released from hospital later that day I pack it very carefully. I spend the evening at home with Doug, Gretchen, a nurse I work with Audrey and Drue, an obnoxious friend of both Jack and I from medical school. We play monopoly, but I'm tired. I hate the fact that I'm tired because it means I'm sick. Of course I'm sick but I hate feeling that way. Everyone is pretty low key which I appreciate but I keep pressing against Joey's letter which I have folded in the front pocket of the shirt I'm wearing.

'You got a nervous tick Pace, or are your nipples especially arousing?' trust fucking Drue to notice.

'You know me so well,' I roll my eyes but smile.

'He keeps his love letters there,' Doug says and Audrey squeals.

'Oh my god Pacey, you never said you're in love. Who the hell are you in love with?'

'Jack's friend from home,' I say but Drue whistles,

'The blond or the brunette?'

'Joey, the one with brown hair,' I say staring at him.

'I met them both the summer she built her house. They're both gorgeous. I have to hand it to Jack, for a gay guy he has great taste in women,' Drue says it and I curse fucking chemo because it's smooth line and I should have said it.

'Good taste in men too,' I look pointedly at Doug who flushes on cue.

'Oh man, what is it long distance lover week?' Drue cackles.

'When is she coming to see you? Your heart isn't an easy one to win over?' Audrey looks at me with large eyes. It's no secret she had a thing for me. We kissed a few times but it didn't really go anywhere. 'I want to meet this girl, especially if she' she one stopping you having sex with me,' she pouts.

'Oh I don't know,' I say.

'Pace has enforced a strict separation whilst he is sick,' Gretchen explains in a haughty voice of someone who thinks I'm an idiot, but her audience is wrong. Doug may be on her side but Drue and Audrey, they know I'm probably going to die. They probably understand better than most why I might keep someone at arms length, because I know exactly how likely it is too.

'Hmmm,' Audrey says, 'you have gaps in treatment. If she's good for your soul, you should consider a revision of the agreement.'

'And she's hot dude,' Drue nods.

'Pacey thinks he looks like a potato,' Doug fills in and both Audrey and Drue tilt their heads to one side as they appraise my appearance. I throw monopoly houses at them,

'I can get hold of some fake eyelashes,' Audrey says brightly.


I enjoy being home and when my friends and siblings are gone I pull out some writing paper, and using a book to lean on, I write to Joey from the comfort of my sofa.

'Dear Joey,

I'm home at my apartment at last. It's nice to be home, although there is somewhere I would rather be. Especially if we get a wind afflicted, super affectionate horse. I obviously completely concur as to the best horse for us. I'm not sure that any horse sounds better. You do know I don't actually know how to ride a horse? Doug sprung for a ride on a donkey one summer for me and I begged for lessons, but you know, being my parents favourite kid and all...well yeah, never happened. Before you ask how I managed to get them to fund me through medical school? Well I didn't. My siblings helped, as did the partial scholarship I got after my grade about turn. I worked my butt off and well I have debt. I have no idea what's going to happen to that debt, or the medical expenses my insurance won't cover. Fair to warn you that I'm financially bust. I will of course contribute to the horse:-) I'm still earning and well despite the debt that's accrued and accruing I still have some savings. I'm actually pretty good with money. The thing about training to be a doctor is it costs a lot but you're supposed to earn the big bucks when you start to work. Cancer kind of screws with that. Of course cancer screws with an awful lot.

All that aside, I am insanely excited at the idea of a horse. You know I'm planning to enact all my childhood cowboy fantasies? Of course I have a few adult cowboy fantasies but I'll require you and not the horse for those. That would be gross otherwise. With you, perfect.

I miss you. If it's not already obvious of course. I did rather adore your last letter, especially that little secret you decided to share, I'm not gonna lie, it made me totally hard for you. It shouldn't, I know that's totally chauvinistic or something but really, it did. Especially because I ran through that moment of you sliding onto me again and again, and that's already one of the all out sexiest moments of my life (all others also involve you.)

Anyway, I digress into the many ways in which I want you. I want to post this today and I'm ridiculously tired as always and so I'm going to love you and say goodbye. I will email you a checked shirt picture when I actually think I look half decent. There is an unfortunate chance that may be never.

I do love you. Like crazy.

Love Pacey.'


Time passes and though I work occasionally it's not really the focus of my life any more. My treatment, my sickness, become my entire world, a world so bleak at times that I question my very drive to remain in it. It is Joey's letters that arrive with regularity that keep me focused, that make me laugh and make me feel loved. My friends and siblings are good to me, they do their very best and it's almost enough. Andie comes by with her usual regularity, always upbeat and far to perky, hands lingering just long enough to let me know she wants me back, eyes filling with tears she just doesn't dare shed. She rolls her eyes when I talk about Joey, points out repeatedly that Joey isn't here, that she is here, that she still loves me. Audrey is nearly as bad, though she's not manipulative. She doesn't hide the fact that it's pity that drives her desire - apparently she hates to see a man hurting and just wants to make it better. I might be tempted if it weren't for Joey. As it is I'm not tempted at all. Drue calls through frequently, teasing me into laughter with his entirely inappropriate abruptness. It's especially fun when his visit coincides with Gretchen's because they just can't stand each other. Drue is the one that brings through Joey's next letter,

'Love letter for you baldy,' he sing songs as he stalks into my room.

'Well hand it over,' I say but Drew let's the letter flip, flap in between his large fingers.

'Hmmm, I could,' he says, 'except you went so red over the last one I'm thinking she writes about more than her love of you.'

'Hand it over,' I repeat and shoot him an evil look. He grins at my irritation,

'So level with me here, how did you manage to get her? When I was there she was a bit of a cold fish. Jen...not so much, but Joey, she just sort of glared at me a lot.'

'Were you being yourself?' I ask as seriously as I can.

'Who else would I be?' Drue looks at me like I'm mad,

'Well there you have it.'

'What are you saying here Witter?'

'Just that Joey likes someone who's genuinely funny, dashingly good looking, clever, witty, someone who romances her without the cheesy chat up lines,' I shrug and Drue sits beside my bed, putting his dirty shoes up on my legs.

'You just called me a Cheeseball,' Drue summarizes happily, 'an ugly Cheeseball.'

'You're holding my letter hostage,' I point out and he chuckles and flings it at me. I snatch it up, attempting to look nonchalant but I see Drue smirking.

'Not going to open it?' his grin grows.

'Oh fuck off,' I grumble and open the letter.

'Dear Pacey,

I'm not really interested in finances. I could pretend but you see I plan to be with you for as long as you'll have me. I long ago decided to follow the model that Bessie and Bodie laid out for me. They went into their relationship agreeing that they shared assets and they shared debt. I know we're not there yet, mainly because I'm here and you are there, but you have some debt and you have some assets. I was dirt poor growing up. We were always broke, and not only wondered how we'd pay the bills that kept on coming in, but how we'd manage to eat. The truth is I'm not poor anymore. In fact I'm decidedly wealthy, and continue to earn on top of what I already have. We're good and I can take care of the horse when you're not here and you can do it when you are.

You must tell me if I'm too much, you know, too adoring. I don't like to think that I'm wanting a future with you and you wondering why I don't just leave you alone.

I miss you. Whilst I'm not interested in finances I do find your parents approach to you in general interesting, and to be honest a little upsetting. You're a nice person. I mean you're a really nice person. What is their problem with you? Is it really just your father's "issues" manifesting into an inappropriate issue with you? How are they with your siblings? In the interest of being fair I'll tell you that my dad always talks like he cares. He's full of the nice things to say, how proud he is, how wonderful and beautiful we are. How we turned out so well and he loves us so much. He never seemed to love us quite so much when he wasn't in prison and his fist was in our faces. His patience is short and so is his attention span. I believe our main crime was being children and therefore not recognizing his need for space. My mother on the other hand? Well the more Bessie and I have demonized our father, the more we have idolized our mother. She did have patience but she wasn't strong, not like Bessie and I, because she knew our father cheated on her, she knew he slept with many other women, but she didn't ever leave him. Then again, I'm not entirely sure she knew where to go.

Enough of my depressing history. I will send you some photo's of the stable when it is done, though I have enclosed one photo of the building site. It's weird having two men around the whole time. I just have to remember to swim in my bikini. That's a joke.

I spend a lot of time thinking about you and thinking about how things were when we were together. I think a lot about that morning in bed together, about that moment on the sofa when I first, well yeah, I still blush writing about it. Sorry. The following day, how many ways and times we were together, it was addictive being with you. Maybe I should just send you naked photos and be done with the attempting to talk dirty. Just know that I think about it, that I think about you. I think about you making some silly quip whilst inside of me, making me laugh, even though I never associated laughing with sex.

I hope you are ok. Jack told me you are unfortunately back in the hospital again for a couple of days, but that you should be out soon. I hope so. A photo please Pace. I did fix you in my head but I miss you and photos are good for that.

Love Joey.'

I hold the letter against my chest having completely forgotten Drue's presence until he snorts,

'Good letter huh?'

'It was ok,' I mutter dismissively but Drue rolls his eyes and snatches the letter from my fingers.

'Drue man, give me back my letter,' I feel unreasonably angry because the letter isn't full of secret stuff, but it's intimate, it's between Joey and I and it's our way of being together. Drue being Drue is reading the letter and completely ignoring my anger and irritation.

'Man, she really likes you.'

'You think?' God I'm pathetic, but he says it and I do a one eighty and am suddenly looking at him like he's the wise old man.

'Course, all that finance crap - she's basically saying she's giving you her fortune. Which is probably a lot. What's she mean about your dad?'

'It's no secret my dad's a dick Drue, let's leave it at that.'

'And her dad's a con? That's pretty funny. I mean not for her,' he looks momentarily sheepish, 'but in a whole Romeo and Juliet kinda way, you know son of the Sheriff, daughter of the town convict. That's like a romance novel or something.'

'This,' I gesture to myself and the hospital, and my bald head and my cancer ridden body, 'this isn't a romance novel.'

'So pedantic,' Drue is unfazed and I guess that's one of the reasons I like him, 'it's cute.'

'She's cute,' I clarify and Drue chuckles.

'She's hot,' he clarifies.

'That too.'

'She doesn't even mean to talk dirty and it's sexy,' he tells me unnecessarily.

'It's those eyes of hers, always looking at me and telling me how much she wants it.'

'Ugh Pace. Your sex life from her point of view is hot, from you it's just ugh.'

'You're a dick,' I mutter and snatch my letter off him.

'She wants you though,' he mimics my tone and shoots me a mischievous look from under his heavy brow, 'she really wants you.'


I'm sent home that afternoon and I have an unusual evening alone. I'm not sure my family know I'm home or one of my siblings would be over checking on me. I order sushi and eat it before I write to Joey;

Dear Joey,

I love you. I still love you even after three months. Everything you write makes me love you more, so no, you aren't "too much." I love that you see a future for us and I hope we have an opportunity to see what that would be like. I'm not sure I could share my debts with you, but I do agree with the principal you laid out. I think that relationships work best when you agree to be in it completely. That said, we can always talk more about that. You spent a week with me. I can't ask or expect anything of you.

I cannot wait to see photo's of the stable. I'm also all for the naked photos as well. Huge surprise I'm sure. You could always try your hand at a little porn writing. I mean you're an amazing writer, so with a little imagination and our experiences together...I'm about ready to combust without you around, I'm pretty sure it wouldn't take a lot. Just the thought if you pushing down onto me makes me hard. I'm so easy. For you only. I should let you know my ex has been in to see me a couple of times. She's in my face a little but all I do is go on about you. It really pisses her off. I have a photo Jack gave me of you that I take everywhere. She glares at that photo. Audrey, a nurse I work with, she's been offering me pity sex, needless to say I'm not interested in that. I have my memories of you and I'm good with that. I only want sex with you. I'm just letting you know your boyfriend is highly desirable and one hundred percent faithful. Anyway, back to the naked photos, I'll send you a checkered shirt photo if you sent me one of you naked, on the bed, and I want to be able to see you, to imagine I'm there.

Ok, so I digress into the gutter, but you're gorgeous, and I miss you. I feel that this romantic letter writing thing is good, but I still feel it's not enough. However, the thought of you having to care for me, it twists me up inside, like you shouldn't have to do that, our relationship shouldn't be that. Does that make sense?

I love you entirely,

Pacey xxxxxx.

I walk to the local post office and post my letter. Thinking of Joey I stop by the store and buy some fresh fruit and a loaf of brown bread, as well as a bunch of flowers. I pretend they're for her, that I'm heading home, and that I've just finished a shift at the hospital rather than intensive chemo. It's a nice fantasy, a nice daydream.