Love Letters(11)

By: Geraldine Solon

“Josh … it’s me.”

Josh put his feet down, turned his chair away from his desk and sighed. “Yes, Trish. What can I do for you?”

“Oh, don’t you say that to me, you know why I’m calling,” Trish whined. “I miss you, babe.”

He tensed at her words. How many times did he have to tell her that it was over between them? He had tried to be as gentle as possible, yet she didn’t seem to get the message. Perhaps he should be more firm. “Trish, we’ve already discussed this before and I don’t want to —”

“I know we have,” Trish interrupted. “But can’t you at least give me another chance? It’s not like we went out for a month. We were together for three years.”

Josh bit his pencil. “It was off and on again, Trish, and what difference does it make now?”

“Because I love you, Josh, and I will never stop loving you. So please give me another chance.”

Josh took a deep breath. “Trish, I’m only going to repeat this once. You and I are very different from each other. You like living the fancy life working for your high-paying, glamorous job, while I’m just not that kind of guy. I can’t live your superficial lifestyle. I’m sorry, Trish.”

He could hear her sobbing over the phone. “Why can’t you change for me?”

“You never accepted me for who I am, Trish, yet you say you love me,” Josh said. “When you love someone it has to be unconditionally.”

“I know why you went back to Half Moon Bay,” Trish said, lowering her voice. “It’s because of Chloe isn’t it?”

Josh gripped the phone tighter. He regretted having told Trish about Chloe. Aside from Trish, Chloe had been his only other real girlfriend. He was a one-woman type of guy and he had to admit that seeing Chloe again yesterday had brought back wonderful memories. She had grown into a beautiful woman.

“I knew it, Josh,” Trish said. “You still love her, admit it.”

“Trish, this has nothing to do with Chloe. I’ve moved on with my life and so should you.”

Trish growled and banged down the phone.

Josh heard the dial tone and put down the phone. He turned his chair towards the table but couldn’t concentrate on his work. Trish was right. He still had feelings for Chloe.

Chapter Three

Chloe rose early for a change, eager to get a good start on the day. In a few months I’ll be Chloe Foster.

As she opened the window to her bedroom and smelled the crisp air, she felt a rush of wind. She had spent the preceding weeks organizing her wedding. February had approached quickly and she had accomplished a lot, choosing her venue, flowers, the menu, her cake, and souvenirs, her famous scented candles. Yet if she was so excited about her wedding day, then why did Josh’s smile keep flashing through her mind?

She shoved all thoughts of him aside. She needed to be focused on her wedding. On Richard. Still dressed in her pajamas, she pulled out her folder from her nightstand to mark what she had accomplished. She had kept her guest list to eighty people, a combination of friends and family. As her wedding gift to Chloe, Millie had given her the Dior gown she chose, with matching strappy sandals and a white satin purse.

Chloe scribbled through her notes, impressed with all she had achieved, yet she still hadn’t called her mother. She picked up the cordless phone and attempted to punch in her mother’s number. Richard had nagged her constantly about it, and she had promised him she would call today. But as soon as the phone rang, she hung it up. She couldn’t think straight. And she hadn’t been able to think straight from the moment she’d learned Josh was back in town.

Too many changes were taking place too quickly. Richard had the house appraised, and was going to advertise it on the market soon, anticipating it would be sold by May. Then she would move in with Richard. And I’ll never see Josh again. The thought chilled her and she hurriedly closed the window. She couldn’t let that happen. She had to see him at least once before the wedding. To make sure the spark was gone.

She put on her slippers and went downstairs to look at the big house where she had grown up. Tears fell from her eyes as she remembered her dad announcing he was home from work, or the time he had brought home a telescope so that she could “reach for the stars.” They had spent many wonderful hours together looking at the night sky through her upstairs window.