Please let me know what you think. I'm going into series 4 now so it's nice to know if it's going okay. Also, since I'm on chapter 20 now, thanks to all those who have followed, favourited, reviewed, and just read it. It's been great!

2010

Eddie Lawson typed aimlessly on his office computer. If someone were to ask him what he was writing, he wouldn't be entirely sure. Some proposal for next term. That was what it was meant to be. His secretary had mentioned that the deadline was approaching, although he should have known that himself. The morning had been spent writing this proposal that never seemed to end. His attention was on something else.

Across the desk, the black journal was resting atop a pile of paperwork. He had read the first letter, this one that stated how much he had annoyed her and that she would never write to him again. Yet he knew that there were more, so he had stopped, unsure of what to expect. When he had looked up from the first letter, Philip had seated himself in the living room. Whether it was out of respect or he was just scared to see Eddie's reaction, he wasn't sure. Eddie had said nothing, continuing the evening as he would have anyway. He left the journal in the kitchen. Neither of them mentioned it again. When Philip had left, he had taken the journal with him to bed, kept on his bedside table. He had sat with it in the morning but he never opened it. It had been a week since then and he had not read any further. His mind was still racing from the first, let alone a whole journal's worth.

As he glanced across at this simple book, he had to question what it was that frightened him. Was it the reminder of what he had? What he could have had? Or the simple fact that he didn't want to know what she thought of him. What if it was negative? That was what he couldn't bear, the idea that he had never made her happy. Not the way he wanted. Perhaps at the end of all these letters she quite simply stated that she didn't love him nor had she ever. But the fact she had written so many was promising in itself. Either way, it terrified him.

Rachel, in so many ways, had been simple but so hard to read. He thought he knew her and then more was shown, reminding him that he may never have known her at all. But he knew one thing. He loved her and she had loved him once.

There was a polite knock on the door. Blinking in surprise, Eddie looked at the closed door, clearing his throat.

"Come in."

Jennifer slid through with an airy countenance, her fashionable but baggy clothes hung from her small frame. Something about her reminded him of Rachel- if he could possibly say that. He thought it was her smile, but it wasn't. Her nose, her eyes, her ears, her voice, the way she walked. But when it came to it, nothing was reminiscent of her other than the simple fact he wanted to think of her.

"I hope I'm not intruding but I have a couple of things to ask." She had a lovely smile, but he was too distracted to notice. "I wanted to check that you have the list for our new arts evening."

Eddie blinked, taking a moment to register what she had said. His hands ran over the desk.

"Yes, right, erm…" He glanced down at the cluttered desk, desperately trying to think where he had put it. "Ah."

Pulling out the sheet, he pushed it to the edge of the desk. She reached out to take it with an understanding nod.

"Thanks." She held the paper to her chest, watching him intently. "And, the word from the staffroom is that there will be drinks later this evening. I don't know if I could stomach it but it might be a laugh if you come."

Eddie shot a panicked look toward the journal, as if Rachel were to appear herself, criticising him for something. But it lay there and Jennifer was still waiting for a response. He couldn't do it. Perhaps if the past year or two hadn't happened, he would have agreed, even contemplated furthering their friendship. Yet, all he did was stare blankly at her.

"I'm afraid I can't. I've let the paperwork pile up."

He wasn't exactly lying. The journal had distracted him from the work he was supposed to have done and although he wasn't planning to read it anytime soon, he still wanted to allow himself that free time. Jennifer didn't hide her disappointment, the page swishing through the air, back to her side. She gripped it in her curled fist.

"Yeah, of course. Maybe some other time."

Her voice trailed off and he briefly felt a surge of guilt. Eddie knew he should have been nicer to her, but there were more important things to think of.

"Yeah," he muttered.

She stood there for a second longer, perhaps contemplating what to say next. The way he stared ahead of him, not at her but through her, she knew there was no point. Jennifer left in disappointment. A minute after she'd gone, he'd nearly forgotten she'd been there at all.

Settling himself on the sofa, Eddie took a moment to relax. He'd poured a beer after three hours of paperwork. Putting the journal aside, he had to reason that some work had to be done, whether he had other things to think about. But it was over now. The journal was back to his side, taunting him. He had to read it at some point. Surely, she would have noticed it was gone by now. That had spurred him to consider opening it.

Eddie knew he was being irrational. There was nothing for him to worry about. The letters were undoubtedly personal and they would cover moments that he may be unprepared to think of, but Philip had given them to him for a reason. Not only because they were addressed to him. It was full of these letters and something must be there, whether at the end or elsewhere, that was specifically for him to read.

With that in mind, he picked up the journal, weighing it in his hand. It felt light. Raising it close to his face, Eddie could smell the faint trace of her perfume. He was transported back to the few months of their relationship. The whole of her. Opening the journal once more, he flicked to the second diary entrance, the familiar cursive that wrote his name. Eddie liked the way it looked in her handwriting. Looking at it made him feel comforted, like hearing her say his name.

Recognising the date, he remembered what day that was. He emitted a huff of laughter. It was the day when he had gone on the camping trip, where he had twisted his neck and ended in a brace. Suddenly curious as to what she had to say about that, he started to read, immersed in the beginnings of their relationship.