by Sydney Bauer
She turned to look at him then, taking his hands in hers.
‘Don’t you see? I need you to read this. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past six months it’s that it’s better to face your fears than hide from them. The funny thing is, I can see what you saw in her. She’s a brave woman who made some mistakes. No one can blame her for that.’
‘I’m sorry, Sara,’ he said.
‘What for?’ she shook her head and smiled. ‘Things happen for a reason, David, and Karin coming back into your life the way she did – that was just meant to be. Something tells me writing that letter wasn’t easy for her. So in the very least you can show her the respect of reading what she wrote. And then you come back on down to me and hold me like your life depends on it.’
‘It does,’ he said.
‘I know.’
Do you remember? the letter began. ‘How spontaneous we used to be? How you, me and Tony and Jay and Lisa after too many drinks at Bristow’s, would make crazy, spur of the moment decisions like – that we needed to go swimming at 2am.
And how we’d drive up to Nahant and shock all the wealthy weekenders with our raucous laughter and cheap underwear and more often than not, Jay’s bare white butt that reflected the moonlight like a satellite.
And how afterwards, we would be freezing cold and you would offer me your coat and we would all fall asleep in a heap on the sand until the local patrol came and found us the next morning and told us to move on.
Feels like yesterday . . . and ten million years ago.
You know, I always wondered why I chose cardiac medicine as my specialty because, let’s face it, it isn’t the obvious choice for someone who doesn’t quite know how to love.
I’m a selfish person, David, always have been, and there is something in me that prevents me from understanding the word ‘unconditional’.
But you . . . you are another matter altogether. Willing to give so much and expecting so little in return. You set yourself up – and unfortunately, I followed through.
You’ve changed – just a little, and that’s my fault too. I look at Sara and I look at you and I still see the fear in your eyes that it will happen again. But it won’t you know, because as much as I hate to admit it, she is the one for you.
And so, as I sit here writing this cowardly excuse for a goodbye, I want you to know how grateful I am for everything you have done for Stuart. He’s not such a bad guy really. In fact, thanks to you and your friends, I actually think we may have a chance.
I’m grateful for what I have – and thankfully not self-absorbed enough to wallow in what I lost – at least . . . not every day.
I do love you, DC, always have and always will. So, do me one last favour and go make Sara happy – and promise me, beyond all else, that you will allow her to do exactly the same for you.
Love always
K x
David folded the note, slowly, corner to corner, edge to edge, so it would fit inside its small blue home never to come out again.
And then he stood up and grabbed the cooler and locked the car and made his way back to the group, step by step across the crisp green grass.
He placed the cooler under the shade of the closest tree and weaved his way in and out of the people he called friends, until he stopped at the girl under the furthest oak and tapped her on her slim tanned shoulder.
She turned around and he raised his hand to wipe the dirt from her cheek before taking her in his arms and holding her . . . like he had never held anyone before.