Mark flicked on the tv and sat back on the sofa to open his mail. One of the envelopes was a personal one so he saved it till last. There was no return address and no name. But he knew the hand writing.
Dear Mark,
I should have written months ago but there was too much to be said that should never be said in a letter. You owe me nothing. But you need to know the truth.
A couple of months after I left I found out I was pregnant. I didn't tell you because I was scared, because I was feeling really guilty for leaving and I thought I would be easier once that had subsided. Only I never really subsided. Long story short: our son James was born on September 16, three weeks premature. He's okay now – just a little underweight.
I know this is a lot to take in. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner but I have a draw full of attempts to write this letter.
James is so beautiful. I want him to know you but you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. I don't want money. You owe me nothing. I just want James to know his dad.
I'm sorry for everything I've done to hurt you but please don't let James suffer for it.
Susan.
He read it countless times. Then he sprung into action.