Read Online Letters From The Ledge by Lynda Meyers - Free Book Online Page A

wouldn’t surprise me."
    "Why not?"
    Nate put his arms up on the table. "Because I know men like him, Paige. They ask for forgiveness instead of permission, then grease the wheel to stop it from squeaking."
    "You think he’s offering Kevin quiet money?"
    "No, and I doubt Kevin would take it even if he did. I may not like Kevin, but I don’t think he’s cutting deals with Frank. It’s more likely a really generous contract with the promise of more ‘sends’ if he’s happy with the service."
    "Come to think of it, that’s exactly what Kevin told me yesterday." She stirred her drink absently, focusing on the wallpaper.
    "How about if we don’t talk about your day anymore. It’s Friday night and we have the whole weekend ahead of us. Let’s forget Frank Evans, forget Kevin, forget everything else except you and me and a nice bottle of…" he picked up the wine list and scanned it quickly "Sauvignon Blanc?"
    "You hate white wine."
    "Good point. How about a compromise–a dry rosé?"
    “Make it two and you’ve got yourself a deal."
    __________
    When Brendan got home he went outside and straddled the ledge with a fresh joint and the box between his legs. He stared at it for a long time, waiting until he was good and numb before he pulled the letter out of his back pocket. Although the envelope was plain, the stationary had doodled images all around the edges, as if she’d sat for hours, composing both the artwork and the words in alternating sessions.
     
    Dear Brendan,
    If you’re reading this letter I suppose things have gone from bad to worse. I’m writing it just in case. I’ve been working on this box since the day we met. I use it to store my artwork and poetry and journals. I guess I want you to have them because you’re the only one who knew the real me. If my mom ever knew this stuff she’d probably have a heart attack. Or worse. She’d probably kill him. God knows I wish I could.
    I know you’re probably mad at me for leaving. Maybe once you’ve read my journals you’ll understand why I just couldn’t stay.
    But first, there are a few things I need you to know…
     
    Brendan stopped reading. The words had melted into a liquid blur. All these months of questioning, all the wondering–it was all here. In his possession was a box full of information that would likely fill in the gaps and help him to wrap his brain around the whys of her death. And yet, there was really only one question that mattered, and Tommy had already answered it. He wiped his face again and read on:
     
    First of all, and probably most importantly, I need you to know that I love you. My mother always said that a friend’s eye is a good mirror. Through you I saw myself in ways I couldn’t fathom. Knowing you taught me to hope in people. Your friendship saved me from myself so many times, but that doesn’t give you the right to blame yourself for my decision. It was mine to make, and no one else’s.
    I think I was put on this earth for a reason, and it must have been so that I could meet you. But I can hear the angels calling to me Brendan, and I want to go to them. I want so much to fly away…
    I’m so tired of fighting. Tired of having to hide in my own house, always looking over my shoulder. When he’s done with me he beats me now, and the beatings are getting worse. I hurt all the time. This is no way to live, and yet I’ve seen what it’s like on the streets. The only difference between that and this is choice, and I just couldn’t live with myself if I had to choose it to survive. I hope that some day you can understand that.
    I guess I only have one regret, and it’s a little embarrassing to admit, but I wish we’d kissed. I knew you wanted to be more than friends. I wanted that too, but I just couldn’t get close like that without thinking of the other. If I could have my innocence back, I would definitely want my first kiss to be you. You’ve been waiting for me since we were freshmen, through braces and AA