Those 365 Letters

by Ford, Mia

  But I was so empty. I was so hollow inside. I felt sick, disgusting most of the time. I didn’t know what I’d done. But the punishment continued to torment me relentlessly. I barely slept a lot of nights and I worked myself until I could hardly think. My drinking had from time to time become out of hand, but I’d kept up my workouts and my healthy eating otherwise. Those two things somehow helped to center me just enough to keep me from flying off the rails.

  I’d never thought in a million years that a woman would ever be able to destroy me so completely. But Cora had done it. I was devastated. And I knew I would never be the same.

  That was why I was ending the letters. It was going to be the first step on my road to recovery, to getting back the semblance of who I used to be, before I met Cora. I knew I could find that man inside of myself again. I just had to dig beneath the layers a bit. It would take time and maybe I’d never get there, but I was sure that I would be able to get closer than I was right now.

  I grabbed my keys, got in my car, and drove to the post office where I placed the last letter slowly in the mailbox. I held onto it for just a few moments, waiting for something… what? I didn’t know. Maybe something to stop me from making this commitment? Perhaps, something that would make me realize that I needed this more than I would ever admit?

  I didn’t care anymore. Cora wasn’t coming back. Our life together would never be.

  I closed my eyes and let go of the envelope. I listened as it dropped down into the mailbox where it would be mixed up with all the other letters and become just one dream, one person’s reflection out of many.

  I stood there for a moment longer as the mailbox door closed in front of me with a loud clunk. Then I turned and left the post office.

  On the drive home I fought back the tears. I felt a literal tearing pain in the center of the left side of my chest. Good. I welcomed it. I deserved a heart attack. I knew I wasn’t actually having one, but it felt like it and I wished that I would just fade away into it, somehow my wishing of the event would bring it to fruition and I’d just disintegrate into a natural death that would shock no one. A young man on the verge of his prime with the world at his fingers whose heart just couldn’t take the pressure. It was not uncommon.

  But I was physically just fine.

  I thought about the letter and where it was going. The post office box that Cora’s parents received their mail at. I thought it odd that they continued to receive mail there even after they sold their house. I didn’t know where they moved to. I wanted to look it up. I was sure I could track it down, but I couldn’t help thinking that they may have moved to be closer to where Cora was. I had some ideas of where that might be, but as I stated in the letter, I was not going to push for this. It was Cora’s decision.

  I was going to respect her wish to be left alone and to keep me out of her life. But I wanted her to know that I loved her and that when she was ready (if that ever happened) I would be there waiting for her. I loved her so much. I bled for that woman. My heart beats only for her and now that I was certain she was gone; I knew that my heart might stop beating altogether.

  And I barely cared.

  Three hundred and sixty-five days. That’s how many days it had been since I first started the letters. I’d written one for each day of an entire year. I’d realized it yesterday when I haphazardly looked at the calendar. It was surreal. And it made all the difference in my world. There was something symbolic about the idea of three hundred and sixty-five days. That meant something to me. It was like coming full circle. The world had completed one full rotation around the sun and this somehow was the perfect metaphor for this letter writing campaign I’d embarked on so haphazardly.

  It was interesting. It was something to think about, anyway. And I realized just then that I was going to make today be the last letter. It would complete the journey. I figured that if nothing had happened after doing this for one whole year, then nothing was going to. It was over.

  It was all over.

  My heart, my mind, and my stomach felt sickened. I wanted to close my eyes and sleep for another year. Maybe when I woke up I would be a different person with a different heart who no longer needed Cora Blair in my life.

  But that was an idea of pure fiction.

  About halfway home I noticed the Watering Hole, one of my favorite quiet bars that I enjoyed frequenting on occasion. It was coming up on the right. Without even thinking about it I decided to pull into the small, gravel parking lot and walk inside for a few drinks.

  There were only a few people in the bar. Good. I was in no mood for crowds. Besides when places were crowded, it made it more likely that someone would recognize me and start wanting to chat me up. I was not in the mood for conversation. Well, at least not about myself and how rich I happened to be and how amazing my life must have been. People would never get a grip on the trappings of fame. I wasn’t even famous enough to be considered famous, in my opinion, and the amount of recognition I already was faced with was too much to take, especially when you just wanted to disappear from the world.

  I slid up to the bar and sat down. I ordered a double whiskey and a beer. I loved that combination. It had always been a personal favorite of mine.

  I was about halfway done with the beer, just enjoying my thoughts and the slight, warm buzz feeling that was moving through the back of my head tingling along my spine. I was starting to get a bit more relaxed, and I hadn’t noticed exactly how tense I’d been before, when something in the corner of my eye caught my attention.

  I glanced sideways and saw a beautiful woman sitting beside me on the bar stool. She was a petite blonde with a beautiful face, a great set of cleavage showing through a ripped, low hanging tank top with a leather jacket over her shoulders, and a pair of tight jeans that clung tightly to her apple shaped bottom.

  She was instantly appealing.

  “Hey, there,” she said.

  I nodded without speaking. I just didn’t have the energy. I could already tell where this could go and I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to go there. Why couldn’t I just be alone for a night? But then again… was that what I really wanted? Over the past year I’d shied away from all of the sexual opportunities that had presented themselves. I knew that I couldn’t do it; I was with Cora. Even if she didn’t want to speak with me, I wanted to stay pure for her. I did not want to even have a sexual fling with someone for fear that the guilt would drive me mad. I would be dirty, soiled.

  There was no way that I could do that to Cora.

  I was aware of how profoundly silly this sounded, but I couldn’t explain that to myself. That was how my mind was working.

  “You want to buy me a drink?” The lady asked. She had a throaty, husky voice that I found sexy.

  “Well, only if you buy me another one,” I said.

  She laughed. “Deal.”

  I ordered a couple of whiskeys and the bartender sat them in front of us a few moments later.

  “So, you got a name?” The lady asked.

  “I think most people do,” I replied. I was sure she was going to get aggravated in a minute, but she was finding this “total jerk” act to be somewhat entertaining.

  “Yeah, that’s true,” she said. “I’m Liz.”

  “I’m Landon,” I said, finally giving in. She’d earned it.

  “Well, Landon, would you like to play some darts?”

  I looked over at the dartboard and then back to her. I did not want to do anything but sit where I was and get drunk, but she was so convincing with her beautiful breasts hanging half out of her shirt. And the whiskey was definitely guiding my thought process now.

  “Sure,” I said.

  I finished my whiskey and then carried my beer to the dartboard. A few minutes later we were playing darts lost in conversation, mostly on her side. I’ve always been a better listener while intoxicated than a talker.

  “So, then I just decided that I would hit the road until I found somewhere interesting to lay down some roots,” L
iz said.

  She grabbed the darts off the counter and then lined up to take a few throws.

  “You decided that this place was a good place to lay down roots?” I asked with a giggle. “How bad was the place you left?”

  She laughed along with me. “I know, but I grew up a city girl, so I decided that I would find a small town somewhere that I could just stretch my legs a bit and see what type of people I might meet up with. I’m tired of city folks; they are all the same.”

  I grabbed the darts and before I proceeded with my turn, I gave her an inquisitive look. I wasn’t sure if she was messing with me or not, but she seemed truthful. At any rate, I wasn’t in any position to judge anyone. If you were looking for somewhere small and not the big city, then Portsmouth was the place for you.

  “Ok, well how’s it going so far?” I asked.

  “Not too bad,” she said. “I’ve already started my own business.”

  This intrigued me. “Really? What kind?”

  “I opened up a flower shop,” she said.

  “How long ago?”

  “About three months. It’s over on Marcy Street.”

  “Ah, ok. What made you decide on flowers? Have you always had some burning desire to be near things that look pretty and smell nice?”

  “Yeah, that must be it,” she teased. “Nah, I’ve just loved growing plants. That’s what I want to do. I want to expand into other things. I’d ideally like to take the basic flower shop and expand it to be a full nursery within the next year or so.”

  “Wow, so this place charmed you enough to make you want to stay around for a while?”

  “Yeah, something like that,” she said.

  I finished my throw and hit a few good spots on the dartboard. I’d never played much, but I was starting to get the hang of it.

  When I walked back to the table to take a drink of my beer, Liz was there and she was now standing very close to me. I could smell her sweet perfume, and feel her soft, feminine warmth. My body was responding in typical fashion. I knew it was a mistake, but at this juncture of my drinking episode, I just did not care.

  “So, what do you say we get out of here and go back to your place?” Liz asked. Her voice came out warm and sultry, purring in my ear. I was getting very turned on.

  “I’m not so sure if that is a good idea,” I said. “I’m in kind of a weird head space, going through some relationship troubles.”

  Liz nodded. “Ah, well you know what the best cure for that is.”

  I shook my head. “Please enlighten me.”

  “You get out there and get some hot, wild sex with a total stranger out of the way. It’s like getting back up after the fall. It doesn’t even have to mean anything.”

  I thought about it a moment. “Well, that is a very tempting offer. But I’m still not convinced.”

  Liz placed her hand on my crotch and squeezed just a little bit, massaging my cock through the jeans. It felt great. I was getting so hard now.

  “How about now?” She asked.

  “Oh, well you are making a very compelling case.”

  “Then let’s go,” she said.

  “What the hell is this?”

  A loud, booming voice came from my right side. I turned my head slightly to see a large man walking towards us with a very angry look on his face. He was about my height, but beefy, overweight with some muscle. His arms were covered in tattoos, his head (which was also tattooed) was shaved bald, and he wore a large leather jacket over his shirtless upper body.

  “Oh, no,” Liz moaned.

  “Friend of yours?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “I’m her husband! Who the hell are you and what do you think you are doing with my wife?” The man bellowed. He was standing right in front of me now trying to intimidate me.

  I was not intimidated in the least. I’ve studied martial arts since I was a child and people have never scared me. I’ve got too much of an anger response at being pushed around and I hate bullies. In fact, I usually up the aggression level far beyond what the bully is doing way too fast and they typically end up very confused when I punch them out of nowhere. At least that’s how it’s been in the handful of physical fights I’ve actually been in during my lifetime.

  Liz was now standing off to the side. “My husband? You sure wouldn’t know it by the way you treat me. How many women have I caught you messing around with, Herman?”

  “Please, that’s not true,” Herman said.

  “Well, it looks like you have a lot to sort out,” I said.

  I started to walk away until Herman grabbed my hand.

  “Where do you think you are going?” Herman growled. “No one messes with my woman and gets away with it!”

  He reared back with his meaty fist and threw it hard at my face. I quickly ducked and came up under his chin with a hard uppercut that dropped him to his knees before he slumped over. He was very dazed and wasn’t going to be able to stand for a while.

  “You bastard!” Liz yelled.

  She swung a hard slap at my face which I quickly grabbed.

  “You have a good night,” I said letting go of her hand.

  She stood there stomping like some little girl who had just had her party ruined.

  I’d seen this type of crap before. Liz went to bars to hit on guys, knowing her husband would show up to fight for her honor, as if she had any. It was a ridiculous game that could get people seriously hurt. I knew there was something off about her when I first met her, but she was entertaining to talk to.

  And the little fight wasn’t a total nightmare or anything. It was actually kind of fun and it had been a little while since I’d been in any real scuffles.

  I left the bar and called an Uber. When it arrived I had the driver take me to my office. I was tired and a bit drunk. I was in no condition to drive and I didn’t feel like going home either. I figured this way when I woke up I’d already be at work and I could just change into one of the suits I kept there and start my day.

  Besides going home just sounded far too lonely.

  When I arrived at my office I poured another whiskey and sat down on the couch. Then I turned on the television I kept in there and pulled up some standup comedy specials on my favorite streaming channel. When I’m in a bad mood, standup comedy always cheers me up, especially if the comic tells a bunch of relatable stories that I can laugh at.

  It somehow always made me feel less alone.

  I sat there drinking and watching until I passed out.

  When I woke up the next day (only mildly hungover) I put on a suit and went right to work. This was going to be the beginning of the rest of my life.

  Chapter 21

  Cora

  Three Years Later

  “Come in.”

  I opened the door to my boss’s office and stepped inside.

  “You wanted to see me?” I asked a bit more timidly than I’d meant to. Being called into the boss’ office was always intimidating to me.

  “Sure,” my boss, Daniel Perrent, said. “Close the door behind you and have a seat.”

  I did as he asked.

  “Great,” Daniel said. “So, how is everything going?”

  “Um, really well. I wanted to thank you so much for letting me handle the Fisher account.”

  Daniel’s eyes lit up. “Yes! That was brilliant what you did there.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “In fact, that is part of the reason I called you in here.”

  “Oh?” I asked.

  “Yeah, we are starting up a new project down in a small town in the southern part of the state called, Portsmouth.”

  “Portsmouth?” I asked. Was that what he really said?

  “Yeah. Do you know it?”

  “I actually grew up there,” I said.

  “Oh, wow. That’s fantastic then.”

  “What’s going on there?”

  Daniel sighed and leaned forward. He looked like he’d had a very busy day. “Well, we are buil
ding a set of condos down there. And I want you to oversee the project.”

  “Me? Really? You want me to oversee a project, alone?”

  I didn’t mean for the question to sound like I thought I wasn’t up to the challenge, but I was thrilled beyond belief that I was being given this opportunity. I’d only been with Salenge Corporation, a large construction company located in Columbus, for a few months. They’d hired me right out of college and I’d worked my heart out for them since I’d stepped through the door. And it was already starting to pay off. I couldn’t believe it.

  “Yes,” he said. “The way you handled this Fisher account—that proved to us that you are ready for this. And Cora, if this goes smoothly, you can expect even bigger things in your future.”

  “That’s amazing,” I said. “When do I leave?”

  “You will drive down tomorrow. The project should only take a few weeks. We have a huge crew dedicated to it. The client wants to set up several different condominium locations in the area, but wants to start with this one first to see how well it attracts interest from tenants.”

  “Fantastic,” I said.

  I was so excited as I left his office. Wow, I was going back to Portsmouth. It was surreal.

  I hadn’t been near Portsmouth since I’d left for college, not even to see friends. It wasn’t because I feared going there or that I had any ill will towards my hometown. It was a wonderful place to grow up. It was just because I now lived in Columbus and my friends knew that there was far more to do in the city than there was in the small town we’d sowed our wild oats in growing up. Besides, most of them had branched out to either Columbus or Cincinnati. We were all living our busy lives and tried to see each other when we could. Miley was the only person I really was able to keep in touch with, mostly because we were like sisters and she lived only about twenty minutes from me in Lancaster, where she was working as an associate veterinarian in an animal hospital.