He tried to think of a sensible answer. “Because there’s no reason to keep it.”
“But doing it like this? All alone late at night? Am I interrupting some kind of ceremony?” she persisted. “Do you need this moment alone to burn these old memories on the sacrificial fire?”
“No, of course not!” How did she manage to aggravate him so much?
“Want me to throw them in for you?” She gave him a challenging look, like she knew he really wasn’t ready for this. And the truth was, he wasn’t ready. He hadn’t even reread the letters yet. His plan had been to read them in order, then toss them, one by one, into the flickering flames. End of story.
“Gina...” He tried to soften his approach. “You need to respect my space.”
“I’m sorry. But it’s just because I love you.”
“Uh-huh.” He couldn’t help but be amused by this kind of love.
“If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t put up such a fuss. But I just can’t help myself. I know you’re troubled by these memories, and I really think you need someone to talk it through with—you know, to sort of work things out. That’s all I want to do.” Her eager expression reminded him of Babe when she was waiting for him to throw her ball. But right now, Babe was lying quietly and obediently by the fire ... bothering no one. Training dogs was much easier than training daughters.
“There’s nothing to talk through, Gina.” He reached for the envelope, but she still stubbornly clung to it.
“Then just tell me about her. Who was this Brynna? What was she to you? I know it was more than just a camp romance. Youwouldn’t be acting like this if that were true. You two were in love. I just know it. I could tell by those photos. But what happened? Did she break your heart? Or did you break hers and now you feel guilty about it and just want to forget?”
“Why don’t you go to bed?” he said in a weary tone.
“I’m not sleepy.”
“Then go launch your website.” He pointed to her devices. “You have my approval.”
“Great.” She nodded, wrapping the throw around her with her knees pulled up to her chest and eagerly watching him. “But first, tell me about Brynna.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “I thought you read the letters. You should already know.”
“I told you I only readone,” she said defensively. “And I think it was the first one. Brynna wrote it to you right after camp. It did sound like she was in love, so what happened?” Her eyes grew wide. “Did she die?”
“No, she didn’t die.” He paused. “Well, not that I know of anyway.”
“Then what? Whathappened?”
He knew his only way out of this would be to just spill his story. And who knew, maybe it would be therapeutic. Then he could read the letters and burn them.
He began to tell her a condensed version of how he and Brynna had met, how he used photography as an excuse to get acquainted, and how over the course of two short weeks, they fell in love. “The way only teenagers fall in love,” he said without emotion. “Like a flash in the pan. Now you see it, now you don’t.”
“But you promised to write each other,” Gina pressed. “And then what?”
“Well, I did write to her. From college. Not as often as she wrote to me, but it was my freshman year and there was a lot going on. Plus, she was a better writer than me. She wanted to be a journalist.”
“Cool. But why did you quit writing each other? When did it end?”
“When did it end...?” He considered this. “It was right before winter break. I’d been saving up to take a trip to Oregon to visit her at Christmastime.”
“Did you go?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“She sent me a letter,” he said. “It seemed that her old boyfriend came home from college for Thanksgiving. They’d been together for several years, but he’d broken up with her right before we went to camp.” Leroy smiled sadly. “I suppose I was just a rebound romance.”
“Oh, I don’t believe that.”
“I do.” He leaned back. “Anyway, her old boyfriend apologized for everything and even gave her a promise ring.”
