Scarlett checked the mailbox that morning and found a couple of letters informing her about the store's new inventories. At the bottom of the pile, was a letter addressed to her, but it had no sender.
"That's strange." She said, wondering who could've sent it, then she spotted the bouquet of red roses leaning against the wooden post.
Roses? She bent down and picked the bouquet. The flowery scent of the roses tickled her nose as she inhaled. They were so lovely. Her fingers brushed the petals with care, admiring their deep red color.
No one's ever sent her red roses before? Everyone knows they are the symbol of love, which should only be given to the one you care for deeply.
Then who? She thought although the young farmer couldn't help but let her mind wonder about the possible suitors who'd be brave enough to declare such feelings.
The more she thought about it the more silly it seemed.
"I'll read the letter, first before I jump to any conclusions." She tucked the flower bouquet under her arm and headed inside.
As she passed by her desk she dropped the letters onto it before she went in search of a vase for the flowers. It took her a while, but she managed to find a white one in her closet.
After filling the vase with water she returned to her desk and set it in the corner, then grabbed a letter opener out of the drawer and slit it open. A folded piece of white paper fluttered to the ground.
She picked it up and unfolded it. The handwriting was neat and elegant.
'Dear Scarlett,
I must apologize for the abruptness of this letter, you must know I've contemplated the reason many times I wanted to write to you, but could never find the right answer.
Although I'm sure my words will sound like an excuse, they are not too far from the truth. You see when a man has become aware that it's not just his own actions that define him, but the people around him, he must do whatever is necessary to save his pride.
He must put himself above all others to achieve greatness no matter the consequences, for if he should fail then there'd be nothing left for him.
Scarlett frowned as she reread. "What are they saying?!" She had half a mind to discard the letter, however, she kept reading.
A man can only know his worth by what he's given to the world in exchange for it. He must have a purpose, an identity in life to have a sense of place among other men, and so on.
Bring this letter to conclusion I know you are curious about who I am, but I wish to remain anonymous until the time is right.
Sincerely, your one and only.'
She dropped the letter on her lap more confused than ever. It didn't make any sense, at least from her point of view. Why would someone send this to her?
Although she didn't want to admit it the tone of this individual sounded familiar somehow.
"I'm just being paranoid, it doesn't mean anything." She told herself, but couldn't help the uneasiness swelling up in her chest.
It was just another love letter from somebody who admired her and nothing more. Does it have to be? She chewed on her bottom lip willing herself to believe it, unable to think of a better reason.
She left the letter on top of the desk before going to the laundry room to wash her dirty clothes. After everything had been discarded into the washing machine she started it up and then left to get a glass of water.
While in the kitchen drinking her water, her eyes found the letter again. She stared at it for a while and wondered if maybe she should just throw it away.
Why? She asked herself when she had yet to discard the others sitting inside her drawers.
Why was this one different from all the other letters addressed to her?
Deciding not to dwell on it any longer she entered the living room to watch the news while she waited for her clothes to finish up.
The weatherman forecasted a week of nice weather with a slight chance of rain showers on the weekends. A part of her enjoyed spring, but the farmer couldn't say the same about the pollen because it made her allergies act up.
Maybe a little rain is just what they needed to wash away the extra pollen.
She switched through the channel trying to find something interesting to watch when the washing machine beeped, telling her the clothes were done.
"Oh!" She jumped up, set the remote down, and rushed over to the Laundry room.
Several hours later after binge-watching a soap opera show, a knock came at her door.
"Coming!" She called hurrying over to open the door.
"Howdy, Scarlett. How's the farm going?" Her uncle greeted her.
"You know how it is, business is always blooming," Scarlett told him. "Who are those for?" She added pointing to the plastic container in his arms.
He grinned holding it out to her. "Sweets, cookies to be exact. Noel gifted them to me, but I am not really too fond of sweets, I already gave a few to Carrie and Lisette."
"Thank you, Uncle," Scarlett laughed. "I'll take them."
When he remained there for a moment longer she began to assume something was wrong.
"Was there something else?" She asked, voice lacing with concern.
He appeared surprised by the question.
"Uncle?"
"No...um sorry, it's nothing, just thinkin' bout how I'm going to convince Marco to fish with me tomorrow?" He explained, averting his gaze.
"If you say so..." She said, placing a hand on his arm.
As he left her farm the farmer pondered his strange behavior. What had he really wanted to say?
YOU ARE READING
The Wall Between Us
FanfictionIt all started with rejection. Scarlett can't seem to get over the loss of her best friend since she rejected his confession of love. Already dealing with her own self-worth and feelings while keeping up with daily life, things soon become difficult...
