The Lawyer (8 page)

Chapter 17
             
              I wrote the letter in the middle of the night, never intending to send it, but knowing that there were things I needed to say, if only to myself.
             
I miss you.
I typed it slowly, as if somehow the speed at which I typed could impact the meaning of the words.
I miss you so much and I see you everywhere. I've found someone new and he gets me. He really understands me. He appreciates all the little things about me. But I miss the way we were together.
And I did.
              I stopped typing as I stared at the words. Who said journaling was supposed to be therapeutic? Who said writing out your feelings was supposed to make you feel better? Who said getting things out in the open, getting things down on paper, was supposed to help? I'd been staring at what I wrote for what felt like hours and it didn't seem to be helping. My heart still ached.
              I deleted the document, sending my words into the abyss, and I shut down my computer. Molly was right about Tim. He didn't deserve my time or my attention. He didn't deserve my heart. He didn't value me and, quite honestly, he probably didn't miss me. So why did I miss him
so badly
?
              Falling back into my bed, I curled up with my favorite pillow. I didn't cry, but I wanted to. I just kept thinking of all the things I did wrong, of all the mistakes I made, of all the things I should have said, but that I didn't. Conversations ran again and again through my mind, haunting me, destroying me, making me wish I could rewind time.
              If someone could actually invent a time machine, there would be a lot of happy girls ready to take back their relationship mistakes. And I'd be the first one in line.
**
              My parents' divorce was finalized faster than I thought possible. They remained civil the last day they were in the office, quietly signing papers before they went their separate ways for good. I guessed it was a good thing that they waited until I was an adult to separate. I didn't have to grow up with parents who fought over where I'd live or where I'd go to school. My childhood remained perfect, even in my heart. I didn't question whether or not they had ever loved each other. I knew, without a doubt, that they
had.
They had loved each other deeply, just as I had loved Tim. Breaking up didn't mean that your love was false. It just meant your love was imperfect.
              As my father left the office, he stopped by my desk and gave me an awkward hug and a kiss on the cheek.
              "I love you, Princess," he told me. "Nothing will ever change that."
              Caught off guard, I stuttered back an "I love you, too." Then he was gone, and I remained alone in a stale room with nothing but a stack of paperwork to keep me company.
              I finished filing, finished scheduling, finished the research I had promised Alex that I would do, and then it was time to go home. Alex drove me back to my place and walked me to the door.
              "I'm sorry it's been such a long week," he told me.
              I didn't say anything back. Instead, I unlocked my door and opened it, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside. For a little while, I wanted to drown my sadness in something I knew I could count on. For just a little while, I wanted to forget what it felt like to hurt and instead discover what it felt like to be adored. For just a little while, we would use each other, Alex and I. For just a little while, we would pretend to be one whole instead of two broken halves. For just a little while.
              It was then that I told Alex that I loved him. I meant it, too. Unromantic as hell, we were curled up on the couch and it just came out.
              "I love you." I told him, staring up into his eyes. It was hard for me to imagine my world without him. Alex and I didn't have a ravenous, can't-stand-to-be-apart passion the way that some couples did, but we made each other feel better. We made each other feel loved. We made each other feel needed. And I didn't doubt that I needed Alex or that he needed me, not when you got right down to it. So I did the only thing left to do: I spoke the words I'd been holding back.
              "I love you, too," he whispered, stroking my hair.
              And when I laid my head back down on his chest, I soaked up the feelings I was experiencing. I didn't feel scared anymore and I knew that even when I felt sad or alone, I had someone with me who would keep me safe. I had someone with me who would be by my side. I had someone who would make me feel special even when I didn't deserve it.
              I stared up at Alex, awkwardly as always, and wondered what the future held for us, but realizing, at the same time, that it didn't really matter. Life would play out however it pleased. The choice was mine as to what I wanted to learn from it. Molly's voice resonated with me:
You've got a good thing
. I knew she was right.

About the Author
Alice Bright
is an American writer who was raised in a small Midwestern town and later moved to the city to pursue her dream of being a writer. Bright's story
A Moment With You
appeared in the 2012
Brickstone
publication "Ignite."
The Lawyer
is her first novella.