The Slut's Guide to Chess

epilogue

Re: Final Email

Zora <zoramcqueen@gmail.com>
to Elise      

Dear Mum,

Hello, it's Zora (as always). I've decided that this will be my last email to you. Sorry if that upsets you. It upsets me too, but I have to move on.

I don't even know if you get these emails, let alone read them. But, I've wasted too much of my time thinking about that possibility. I've thought about getting your phone number, or the number for the place where you work or even your house address. I know, it's creepy and obsessive. I've come to learn that I am quite the creeper and the obsessor. But, I'm working on it and to get better, I need to stop sending emails to you.

I don't know exactly why you left and why you never stayed in contact. I don't know why you thought Dad wasn't enough or that our family wasn't worth it. But, I do know that there are a hundred sides to a coin (well, not literally). I know that while I thought that you'd abandoned us because I wasn't good enough, it's not true. Things aren't always black and white, I've learnt.

Mum, I hope you're reading this email and not for the reasons I so desperately wanted before. Where I used to wish you'd come back to us, now I want you to read these words and know truly that things are good for me right now.

With or without you, I'm okay. I'm better than okay, actually. I'm doing brilliantly! I read a book, I baked a cake, I painted a whole bunch. I'm finding myself.

Things are good and so, this is our last email.

I hope you're doing well, with or without me. And, if you ever see a girl with black curls and a face that spookily resembles yours, go and talk to her. Or don't. She doesn't care anymore.

With best wishes,
Zora :)

***

I guided the white rook along the chessboard with familiar ease as I sat on the very edge of my seat, completely devoured by the game. My opponent moved their queen to the side and my breath hitched.

"Checkmate," they announced.

"But I was so close this time!" I protested weakly and jutted my bottom lip out in a pout. "I almost beat you, too!"

He only chuckled at my behaviour, amusement twinkled in his brown eyes. "If the wind changes, your face will stay like that," Arwyn warned playfully.

"Yeah, and if I hit you hard enough, your face will stay like that, too" I quipped which only fuelled his laughter.

Together, we collected all the pieces and put them back into the box while I felt the hot prickle of his stare as he stole glances. Finally, I met his gaze and he smiled thoughtfully. It was a pretty smile, one that I'd enjoyed looking at these past few months.

"How's Eliott?" He asked and I beamed.

A week or so after I left her house, I sent her a bouquet of flowers and a note that read if she ever needed somebody to be there for her, I would. As a friend, this time. My first love really wasn't all that loving and when I finally accepted that, it allowed me more room to accept other types of love. Friendships, hobbies, even another crush; one that consumed even me more than the last.

I started counselling again after we painted the bathroom stalls, deciding that I was finally okay to talk about my experience, and Evelyn, the lady I talked to, advised that Eliott probably didn't mean what she said. Evelyn told me that grief and anger made somebody do and say stuff they didn't mean. I knew it wasn't the real Eliott as soon as I entered the home but it took a while to get her words out of my head.