I wipe my eyes, then lean towards the phone. "So, of course we all want to know what happened here. Did the soldier return from war and get the girl? Let's see if any more letters arrive for me and what we can work out from them. Hit follow to stay tuned."
I look up and see Ed's meeting has not, in fact, been very long.
He stares at me like I've just read his death warrant.
Chapter eighteen
Ed
“Areyouokay?"Bessasks, her brows knitted in concern. Her voice sounds as if she’s speaking from the other end of a long tube.
The room closes in on me, squeezing the light out.
"Wow," says Mistral from half a world away. "It's already getting thousands of likes."
"Ed?" Bess moves towards me and the room snaps back to its normal dimensions.
I try to answer her, but all my saliva has dried up and glued my tongue to the roof of my mouth. It pops when I release it. "Ah, no. I'm not feeling well, actually. I'm going to take a moment out the back."
I have to concentrate really hard on putting one foot in front of the other, but I make it to the door to the back area, and then the office without collapsing.
The office is a cell. A small, breeze block room with one tiny window high on the wall. Ordinarily, I try to spend as little time in here as possible, but right now its compact, dark interior feels safe.
Shutting the door behind me, I allow everything to rush in.
It does in one violent, roaring sweep, and whirls and twists inside my skin. I can't pin down a single coherent thought except, "How has this happened? How can it be happening?"
I know why. I know exactly why. Because I invited it to happen by gambling on Mistral when I should have known so much better. This is all on me.
I make it to the chair and my legs collapse from under me.
Bess' mouth, her voice speaking my words. Words I'd written about her, ones she was never meant to hear.
The things you do to me.
...sliding my fingertip over your skin.
...my heart stuttering when you look at me.
I feel like my sternum has been cracked and my rib cage prised open, all my glistening innards on display.
This changes everything.
How can I pretend around Bess like I haven't written her a love letter under the guise of a soldier, and that she hasn't read it? It's going to be impossible. She wasmovedby it. She was so touched by what the letter said, she was nearly brought to tears.
I made that happen. And I made it with sentiment I truly feel. She's never going to move past it when she finds out who authored it.
We are not going to be able to move past it.
There's a knock on the door and Mistral's muffled voice. "Ed?"
Not knowing what's going to burst out of me, I wrench the door open and half-yell, half-whisper, "What kind of human being are you?" My voice cracks on the last word.
Mistral raises her hands. "I know you're angry right now, okay? But it's going to all work out. Just wait and see."
"Work out?How is you betraying me, making a deeply personal and very intimate expression of emotion not only public, but giving it to the person it's written about and who won't welcome it,andthenlying to her and, by implication, all her viewers about it, going to 'all work out'?"
"Because it has to. Besides, she doesn’t know who wrote it. It’s no biggie."
