4|Disappointment

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Seconds turn into minutes, and minutes turn into hours as my pen dances across the page in soft strokes. By now, the sun has surely set, and I'm still immersed in writing these response letters.

I experienced a variety of different emotions in just the last hour alone. The first letter Bella gave to me to read was about a girl whose parents disapproved of her newfound independence. She was at that point of her teenage life when she wanted to experience the world--the good and the bad--by herself and not be held back by the fear of making mistakes. I remember being in her shoes when I first started college. My dad tried to convince me to go to Stony Brook instead of Brown so that I'd be closer to home. However, when he realized I was hellbent on going, he no longer put up a fight. I encouraged this young woman to reassure her parents that what they taught her growing up wasn't in vain and that all she wanted to do was grow as a person. A comfort zone is a beautiful place, but I learned first hand as a person that nothing grows there.

Another letter I read asked Juliet for advice in regards to choosing a major in college. The author explained his passion for theater but was also facing pressure from his parents to major in something "more practical" like Economics or Political Science. This one I could personally relate to because I had trouble convincing my father that majoring in Art History and minoring in Latin at Brown University would get me a job after college.

I told the person writing this letter to Juliet what my academic advisor told me when I was choosing my own major. It doesn't matter if the content you learned in your major isn't directly related to your career aspirations. What matters are the skills you gain from focusing on a major that interests you and how well you are able to transfer those skills to your work.

The letters I read afterwards aren't as memorable as the first two in my pile, but I enjoy responding to them nonetheless. By the time I finish sealing the envelope to my last letter, I realize that it's just me and Bella left in the office. I feel bad that I didn't notice the other ladies leave or else I would've said goodbye.

Bella walks over to me with the same basket she used to pick the letters off of the stonewall attached to Shakespeare's balcony. She gestures to the pile of letters stacked in front of me, and I place them inside the basket.

"So...how was it?" She asks, trying to anticipate my reaction. "I'm sure it's not what you're used to."

I nod my head. "That's exactly why I loved it," I tell her with a genuine smile. "I felt like I was able to relate to some of the struggles people wrote to Juliet about. Writing back to them gave me a sense of purpose, you know?"

"I know what you mean," Bella says after releasing a sigh. "Would you care to join me for dinner? My mother is the head chef at Celeste and often cooks too much food to be eaten by customers."

I bite my lip as I contemplate her offer. "As amazing as that sounds," I start by saying, "I have a date with someone special tonight that I can't miss..."

Bella is very understanding about the situation. Her mother, not so much.



"I cook a lovely meal, big enough for the whole town to eat, and your friend is refusing a plate," Bella's mother complains, wagging her finger at me.

"Ma, she has to go. There's nothing I can do about that," Bella reasons with a frown.

"That's the problem with the americano. Always busy, busy, busy," Bella's mother rants before going off on a tangent in Italian.

"I'm sorry," I sincerely apologize while clutching my bag against my side, "but I really have to go. I have a date with my fiancé tonight," I explain to the both of them.

Bella's mom cuts her rant short upon hearing my confession. Without a word, she storms back into the kitchen, rattling pots and pans and god knows what else. Just as I am about to head for the door, Bella's mother returns carrying a white paper bag.

"Here, give this to your fiancé," She says, waving the bag in front of my face. "Maybe, he will appreciate my cooking."

"Okay," I nod my head, accepting the bag. "I'm really sorry I can't stay," I apologize again. "Have a nice night!"

I decide that I'm not hungry enough to stop at the street fair and make a point to walk on the sidewalks to avoid the large crowd of people. During the walk back to the hotel, I text Zayn.

Me: On my way back. Can't wait to see the Opera with you! :)

After writing so many letters in one night, a little entertainment is exactly what I needed. Within ten minutes, I'm back at the hotel, ascending to my floor in the elevator. When I'm in front of my door, I slide in my hotel key card and open the door, expecting to see my fiancé.

"Zayn!" I call once I enter the space, looking around. "Are you here?"

I make my way towards the living room and set my purse down on the coffee table. I let out a sigh as I sit down on the sofa and look at all the papers scattered across the table before my eyes land on a yellow post-it note. I pick it up and instantly recognize the cursive handwriting.

Emergency meeting with a client in Verona tonight. I printed out a ticket for the Opera for you and put it on the fridge. Enjoy.
- Zayn

I couldn't help but frown after reading his note, crumbling up the little sticky paper before tossing it into the trash. I was disappointed over the fact that Zayn and I made plans, and he bailed because of work. I thought vacationing in Verona would allow us to spend some quality time together, but the only quality time we spend together seems just to be in the bedroom.

I ran a hand through my hair in frustration and walk to the kitchen to retrieve the ticket from the fridge. Before I leave the house again, I remember the treat Bella's mom gave me to give to Zayn. Figuring he wouldn't come home for awhile, I decide to take it with me and eat it as a snack while I'm watching the Phantom of the Opera.

Given this whole turn of events, I knew one thing for certain. Zayn was going to have to put in a lot of work if he wanted to get back in my good graces.

A/N

Hello my beautiful wattpad readers. I hope you all enjoyed this update. Feel free to vote on this chapter if you liked it, comment your thoughts, or follow me on wattpad.

Fun fact about myself: The very first vocal performance I ever did was at the age of four. My sister's friend's uncle and aunt were having a little talent show and the grand prize was $10. I sang "1, 2 step" by Ciara and won.


Kaylandia

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