“Where were you headed? You didn’t have to ride up with me.”
Jason shrugged. “Taking a late lunch. I have a brownstone to show in an hour and a half, so I just figured I’d eat and then head over there to meet my client.”
I smiled at him - my man – one of New York’s most promising, up and coming realtors. “Not that you need it, but good luck. I know you’ll land it.”
He smiled and touched his lips to mine once in response.
When the bell sounded, signaling that we’d reached the third floor, I still hadn’t stopped staring into those greenish-gold eyes of his – compliments of his mother’s Dominican heritage. However, he owed his light-mocha skin tone to his Haitian father.
The doors parted and I took a step forward to exit; however, my head whipped back in Jason’s direction when he gently caught my hand. “Hey…can I take my beautiful lady to dinner tonight?” He asked, the corner of his lips turning up into a smile. My eyes drifted down to our interlocked fingers.
“Sure…I think I can pencil you in.”
He laughed a little at that. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
*****
My eyes shifted toward the trash pile and then back to the letter in my hand. It’d been in my possession for three years and yet it remained unopened. It was the one tangible letter AJ had written since our breakup – all the rest had been short email messages trying to talk me into giving him some other form of contact information. It didn’t take him long to figure out that I was at least in New York with Angel and her family, but not knowing their last name made it nearly impossible to get any other information than that. Even this correspondence had only made it to me because of Terrell’s craftiness. I still remembered seeing AJ’s letter folded inside the 21st birthday card Terrell and Maisha mailed out to me three years ago. He knew that once I had it, I wouldn’t get rid of it without knowing what it said.
Shaking my head, my hand lingered over the trash pile, but then I remembered what Dr. Gill said about me needing closure. She’d been urging me, since the beginning of my coming to see her, to face my past head on. Reading this letter could be a first step in that direction.
With a sigh, I scolded myself for even starting this project before my date with Jason. Now that Angel was moving, I’d set out on a path toward minimalism – ridding our apartment of any and all clutter as sort of a fresh start. If I’d remembered this letter was in that box of old papers, I would’ve left it at the back of the storage closet where it was.
My eyes shifted to the clock – 5:47. I’d designated 4:30 to 6:00 as my cleaning time before hopping in the shower for a second time that day to get dressed for dinner. Thinking I might call it quits early, I stood from the floor where I sat Indian-style, and walked to my bedroom with the letter still in hand. The bed creaked a little when I plopped down on the edge of it, flicking the corner of the aged envelope with my thumb.
“What the hell are you scared of?” I asked myself aloud as I tore through the flap. I slipped the two sheets of paper from inside and unfolded each.
If only Dr. Gill could see me now.
A deep breath left my lungs and I let my eyes settle on the familiar handwriting that I hadn’t seen in years.
Sam,
Two years….
That’s how long it’s been and I’m not the least bit ashamed to admit that I waited all this time with patience and open arms for you to come to your senses and realize that you’d made a mistake. However, today, for my own sanity, I’m forcing myself to see the truth – I’ve been chasing your ghost all this time.