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Gabriella Sarmiento WilsonNashville, Tennessee 7:56pm

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Gabriella Sarmiento Wilson
Nashville, Tennessee
7:56pm

"brian, let me explain"

my husband is still sitting at my desk, letters in hand.

he has a perplexed look on his face.

"why do you have multiple letters from gabriel martin?"

in a quick attempt to salvage this any way i can, i look at the letters in brian's hand.

he only has the envelope out. the letters are still inside. maybe he hasn't seen what's inside of them yet

"gabriella? i asked you a question"

i am starting to panic. i don't want to tell him the truth because it will ruin our marriage.

if there's any chance he hasn't read the letters, there is still hope that i can lie my way out of this.

it's a risk i'm willing to take

"who is gabriel martin? well, that's easy to answer. he's my um—"

come on, you don't have much time! you've got to think of something quick!

"my international pen pal"

"pen pal?"

"yeah. you know, we write back and forth and fill each other in on life in our cities"

"so, where does he live then?"

"he lives in uh—"

i search the room looking for a clue when my eyes land on a maple leaf perfume bottle.

"he lives in toronto"

brian raises his eyebrow.

"toronto? as in toronto, canada?"

"yeah"

"and how did you even get involved in this international pen pal writing thing?"

"well, i, uh, wanted to find a creative hobby outside of work. you know i love to write and tell stories. so i thought this would be an excellent way to get back into it and to keep me accountable"

brian stares at me. i can tell he's trying to process what i just said and decide if he'll believe it or not.

brian puts the letters down on the desk.

Letters to my Ex  Where stories live. Discover now