This one didn’t.
I didn’t want to ruin it.
“Ruth,
Margaret and I are getting married. The ceremony is in August.”
I sat at our kitchen table staring at the sentence. I kept reading.
My best friend told me the wedding would be small and Margaret’s family was helping them get settled.
Then I reached the bottom. There was one more thing.
Jeffrey asked me not to contact him again.
I kept reading.
He said Margaret knew how close we’d been and that he wanted
to give his marriage a fair start. Jeffrey said our friendship mattered too much to him to let it become something that hurt someone else.
Then he wrote:
“I hope you have a wonderful life, Ruthie.
I’m sorry.
Jeffrey.”
I cried for weeks.
But I respected his choice. I didn’t write back, call, or try to see him.
Margaret knew
