Broken Hearts

Broken Hearts Part 4

Chapter Four: Tate

It takes me half an hour to make the normal five-minute walk to my office. I've stopped to talk to several people and now I'm standing outside the house that is my office. Everything looks fine from the outside. A tree is knocked down beside the house but so far so good. I head inside and everything looks okay in the reception area. I head into my office and open the door. Whelp, this room was not so lucky. Apparently, I left the window open in here. The file cabinet is knocked over on the floor. There is a skateboard impaled in my computer monitor, papers are everywhere and soaking wet, and my workbooks are strewn about. The only thing undamaged is my desk chair, which is only a bit wet from the rain.

I make my way towards the reception area where the landline phone is. I promised Annabelle and Savanah I'd let them know how things were. I stop myself just as my hand reaches the receiver. I realize that I don't want to call them. What I really want to do is go back to the bookstore and help Annabelle there. I can't explain the sudden pull I have towards her, but having my arms wrapped around Annabelle felt so good and right.

Remembering the letters, I go back to my desk and open the drawer where I keep them. All the letters are there, just a little damp. I scoop them up and head out to a chair in the waiting room. Sitting down I grab a random envelope and rip it open.

Dear Tate,

I know you're probably not opening any of my letters but I can't seem to stop myself from writing to you. Every day I've regretted my decision to call off the wedding. When I learned that my mom was dying from cancer, I panicked. It all happened moments from when I was supposed to leave for the country club. To this day I can only imagine how much I hurt you with that voice mail and by sending Prue to cancel everything. Just know that if I could go back and do it all again, well, I would choose to do things differently. I'm still not sure we would've been married that day, but I would've found a way to talk to you so that we could make a plan together, instead of just pushing you away. I'm so very sorry for hurting you. I miss you more than you will ever know.

I will love you forever, Annabelle

I fold the letter and return it to the envelope. My chest aches at the memory of that day. I've spent a long time being angry at Annabelle. When Amy died, I talked to my mom about the whole situation. It was the first time I had talked about it with anyone. My mom listened and let me speak and vent. When I was finished she took my hands in hers and told me that I was her son and she loved me and only wanted me to be happy. She said that while I smile it no longer reaches my eyes the way it once did with Annabelle and she asked me if I was sure there was no way I could forgive her and try to rebuild the relationship we once had.

Originally, I thought there was no way I could forgive her. She cut me so deep that day. But when I was holding Annabelle in the basement today I realized how much I've missed her. That maybe, just maybe, we can find a way through this mess. I just know that if something awful had happened to Annabelle today, I would've regretted not forgiving her.

I take the rest of the letters and head outside to my truck. It's got a few dents in it from debris hitting it during the storm but otherwise, it's all good. I place the letters in the truck so I can take them home with me later. I decide to heel-toe it back to the bookstore and see if I can help the women with the mess the storm has left them.

When I get back down to Main street, there are many people outside, along with a throng of first responders. Firetrucks, ambulances, and police litter the streets. I see Savanah and Annabelle together at a patio table. Annabelle is bandaging a woman's arm and making a sling for her.