Letters Across the Sea by Genevieve Graham (best short novels of all time txt) 📗

both moved on.” I tilted my head, beseeching him to let it go. “I’m with you now. And we’re getting married.”

Ian rose, looking unsure. I could see wheels turning behind those blue eyes, and my stomach churned with shame.

“What?” I asked.

“I guess I just wondered why you didn’t tell me before,” he said.

My skin prickled with guilt. “I had no reason to.”

“Huh. Yeah, I guess.” He took a step away, and my heart twisted at the hurt look in his eyes.

“Ian, it’s nothing. I promise. It’s all in the past.”

“Sure. Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

He was moving away from my desk, his face unreadable, but I could tell. No matter how I urged him to forget about it, the truth about my past was only wedging deeper into his mind.

I watched him walk away, and when I put my fingers back on the keys, they were trembling. What had I just done? I should have left it unsaid. But I’d told him it was history. Shouldn’t he accept that? It’s not like he’d ever told me about any of his past girlfriends.

I took a deep breath, turning to my work. I couldn’t think about Ian. Not now. I took out my notes, and slowly the words came to me, though the story was so much more difficult to write than I’d ever imagined it would be. Hours later, I pulled the final page from my typewriter and sat back, drained but proud.

Wanting to share, I looked over to Ian’s desk, but it was empty. I scanned the room and spotted his profile, standing in Mr. Hindmarsh’s office with the door closed. When he came out, he seemed distracted. He went straight to his desk, and I followed him there.

“What’s up?” I asked.

From the look on his face, I’d startled him. “What?” Then his expression softened, realizing why I was asking. “Oh, nothing. Just chatting with Hindmarsh about stuff. What’s up with you?”

“I did it,” I said, holding out the pages.

“Aha!” He managed a smile. “Good for you. I can’t wait to read it.”

His lacklustre response threw me off. “I was hoping you would, you know, put your finishing touches on it, or do whatever you think before I give it to Mr. Hindmarsh. It’s by both of us, after all.”

“Of course.”

“Are you angry at me, Ian?”

His handsome face was pained. Had I caused that?

“You thought he was dead all that time,” he said. “What if he hadn’t been?”

“What?”

“For the longest time, it felt to me like something was between us. Was it him?”

I flushed. “It doesn’t matter, Ian.”

“Sure, it does. Since he’s been back, you’re different.”

“That’s not fair. Lots has changed. He’s here, and my brothers are home. I have a lot on my mind.”

For the first time, I couldn’t recognize the look in his pale blue eyes. Then his attention was drawn past me, to the door. “Someone’s here to see you.”

It felt wrong, leaving the conversation unfinished, but he was still looking toward the door. I turned reluctantly, then rushed over, surprised, but so happy to see Hannah. It had been way too long since I’d stopped by her house. “Hi! What are you doing here?”

“Have lunch with me?” she asked.

Max would have shared Richie’s letter with her, I realized. “Of course. One second.” I ran to my desk and grabbed my coat and handbag then tucked my arm through hers. “There’s a cafeteria in the basement, or the deli around the corner.”

“Deli sounds good,” she said, squeezing my arm against her side.

We got a spot at a cozy booth and settled in, anxious to talk about what had happened, and yet a nervous silence stretched between us. It wasn’t until after we placed our orders that Hannah spoke.

“Richie’s letter,” she said.

“I’m so sorry, Hannah. Richie never should have done what he did.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “It actually is. What a shock it was to read, though. I wasn’t sure how I felt at first. Angry in the beginning, for sure.”

“Me too.”

“Then I spoke with Max, and he told me the two of them had reconciled over there. The more Max talked, the more I realized that Richie had been trying to do the right thing that night, but it went too far. He made a mistake and was just too afraid to tell us after. I only wish we’d known.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I know his silence hurt your family. It hurt all of us.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she replied, covering my hand with hers. “You and I made our peace a long time ago. Richie’s letter didn’t change that for me.” Her face brightened with a smile. “Oh, and I thought you should know that your parents and mine all met up this morning and had a good, long overdue talk over sufganiyot.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.”

“Yeah. Family’s so important,” she said, her smile dimming.

I knew where her mind had gone. “Have you talked to Max? About David?” I asked softly.

She looked at her hands. “Yes, he eventually told me what had happened. As awful as it was, it was something I needed to hear. I know now. I don’t have to keep making things up in my mind.”

I nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. How long had I wondered about Richie?

“I know Max is struggling with being back, but I think the interviews with you have helped him. Mama says he comes home tired, but the weight on his shoulders seems a little lighter. He’s been so good with the kids recently. Especially Dinah. She worships him. I’m glad she finally has her uncle back.”

I imagined him there, sharing his laughter with the children, and I envied them that time. But that’s where he was supposed to be. Max was back. He was part of their family, as he’d always wanted to be. But he’d never be part of mine again.

“So, the story’s over,” Hannah said. “When will it run?”

“It’s actually going to be a four-part series, and it starts next