~For you, peaceandsmile. This will be a three shot. If anyone who's reading this hasn't figured it out, the regular font is Mitchie's letter, and the slant is Shane's thinking in the part that he's reading the letter. Enjoy?~
Shane grinned, his morning CD signing session finished after five hours. Breathing in the fresh air in his house, he felt relief. And then he frowned. He hadn't used his guitar in at least a week. He hadn't used it after he and Tess got married.
Walking over to pick up his guitar, his mind wondered. He was looking forward to a kisses and some fun when Tess got home.
Picking up the guitar case, he spotted a note taped on to it. Curious, he detached the note from the case and unfolded it.
And started to read.
Dear Shane,
It's Mitchie.
Mitchie?
If you're reading this, I'm not on Earth anymore. I killed myself with my father's gun.
Why did you do that Mitchie?
You must be wondering why. Oh silly Shane. You know why. I loved you. Too much.
You loved me?
Why do you think I sat with you all day listening to you talk about other girls?
Why do you think I started to wear makeup and paint my nails?
Why do you think I pretended to care about everything you loved?
You loved everything except for me.
That's not true, Mitchie.
You could've stopped me, you know. You could've been there.
I'm so sorry.
Sorry is not good enough, Shane.
I loved you, Mitchie. Why did you run away? From me, from us?
And you probably think I ran away from us. But I didn't. Youran away from us.
I hope you and Tess have your Happily Ever After.
Me and Tess.... No.
Lots of love from up above,
Mitchie Torres
Shane sighed and looked up at the blank white ceiling, tears running down his handsome, detailed face.
Mitchie. His happy ending... with Mitchie. Not with Tess.
Mitchie.
M i t c h i e.
So Shane smiled. He grabbed a pen lying on the table, and ripped a piece of paper from his agenda book. He started scribbling down words.
Finished.
Then he strode into his and Tess's bathroom. He opened up the mirror and found exactly what he was looking for. And tipped the vial of pills into his throat.
I'm coming for our happy ending, Mitchie.