"Because he wrote me ninety-nine love letters. Kept sending them, one after another. I just wasn't ready for a relationship yet."
The past I thought I knew crumbled to ash.
My body began to shake. For ten, maybe fifteen seconds, my mind went completely blank.
So that was it. He'd been writing love letters to Ruth.
While I comforted him through his "heartbreak."
What a fool I'd been.
While I stood there reeling, the old woman shoved me again—harder this time.
I stumbled backward onto the front steps and slid several feet across the icy ground.
Snow drifted down in silence, broken only by the sound of the deadbolt clicking into place.
I picked myself up, brushing snow from my clothes, my dignity in tatters.
At least I still had my car.
I turned on the heater, but the windshield was a blur of white, and the tires spun uselessly on the ice.
No driving tonight. I'd have to make do here.
The gifts I'd brought—all food and drinks—sat untouched in the backseat. At least I wouldn't go hungry.
My heart burned with injustice. But I'd be damned if I didn't take care of myself.
Once I'd eaten my fill, I pulled out my phone.
Almost without thinking, I messaged an old friend I hadn't spoken to in ages.