CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
THE LETTER

Dear Tony,

It's not easy for me to write this, and I'm sure it won't be easy to read.

You've been a part of my life for longer than most and our time together has meant the world to me. It hasn't always been easy, but it's always been exciting. I've never really been able to explain what we have to anyone. Complete strangers come up to me and ask me what it's like to date you, and I don't have an answer for them.

I tell them you're a wonderful man and I'm lucky to have you, and I'm not lying. But we never really dated. I don't know what that would be like. I know I'm not supposed to bring this up, because we're forgetting you ever said anything and moving on, but after the other night it's impossible for me not to.

A part of me just wants to live in denial and blame the pregnancy for all of this. Just pretend I was acting on some hard-wired evolutionary need for a partner, or that I simply couldn't control my hormone driven libido. But I can't. Denial lead us into this situation, and I think it's brutal honesty that'll get us out.

I used to think I could put sex in another box and my feelings in another one, and they'd never mix, but I hadn't met you yet. To be perfectly honest, I never thought about the possibility of us together, really together, until you said you were falling for me, and I can't just forget that. I don't know how you're feeling right now, or if that's changed, and I won't pretend to. I've done enough pretending. But I'd like to think the other night was more than casual sex for you, too. If it wasn't, I'm fine with that, but you do things that make me think you still feel something.

I don't regret it. I don't regret a single minute I've spent with you. I just know I can't be around you anymore. There's no happy ending for us. We both know it, and while I would love to enjoy your company before the inevitable happens, I don't think we can get out of this unscathed. It's time to face the reality that we can't give each other what we need.

By the time you read this, I'm already on a plane. After this trip, I'm going straight home to Ohio. I've moved the apartment under your name and turned in my letter of resignation. I'm sorry for not giving you a chance to respond, but this isn't easy. I don't want to write this letter. I don't want to leave, but I've reached a point in my life where I have to think beyond what I want, and I fear that seeing you would make me forget all reason.

Neither of us has friends to spare, so I hope one day we can be friends again, but I'll understand if you'd rather not see me again. It's a risk I have to take, no matter how much it hurts.

Please know that I do love you.

Pearl

"What do you think?"

"This is heartbreaking," Happy says, looking up from the letter, his face visibly upset. He folds it back up and sticks it in its envelope, shaking his head. "And you want me to give this to him?"

He pops open the trunk of his car and lifts Pearl's suitcase onto the curb. She leans against the car, crossing her arms, and shrugs. "If you don't feel comfortable, I can just mail it."

Still waving the envelope, Happy looks up at a plane flying just overhead. "You could've told me you were leaving when you asked for a ride, you know."

"You would've told him."

"Damn straight."

Pearl rolls her eyes. "I'll just mail it."

"No, I'll do it. Of course."

As Pearl is about to thank him, his phone rings. He takes a quick look before muting it.

"Was that Tony?" she asks, a cold shiver running down her spine as if she's about to get caught doing something forbidden.

"No, it's Peter. I swear, I've almost grown to like him."

She smiles and grabs her suitcase, lifting up the pull.

"Are you sure this is how you want to leave?" he asks.

"I'm not really sure about anything right now," she says with a sigh before quickly composing herself. "But this is for the best."