understand it. He’d been so cold and defensive; nothing she said had reached him. And their second meeting, a day later, was even worse.
“Is it the settlement money?”
She shrugged. She’d never intended to accept a dime of that settlement, but Roy had angered her so much she’d agreed to his terms out of pure frustration. He seemed to believe all women were greedy for money and power.
“I was tired of fighting with him,” she said in a subdued voice.
“I know. Fletcher’s gone far in the business world by the sheer strength of his determination.”
“Only in this instance, he’s wrong.”
“I know, Kitten.”
Her last angry exchange with Roy lingered in her mind. Furious, she’d signed those stupid papers. It was what he’d expected, what he’d demanded she do—and so she had. But oh, how she regretted it. She hated to end their relationship on such a negative note, but what choice did she have? Roy had cast her from his life as if she meant nothing.
“I don’t know if he’s capable of love,” she murmured, hoping her father had some consolation to offer.
“Every human has the capacity to love,” he said with such confidence that her heart surged with hope. “But a person’s ability to love is only equal to his or her openness in receiving it.”
Julie valued her father’s wisdom. He was right; nothing she could say or do at this point had the potential to reach Roy. He had certain beliefs about her and about all women, and he’d made certain assumptions as a result.
“I’d like one last opportunity to talk to him,” she said. Not because she expected to change his mind. That seemed doubtful. All she wanted was an opportunity to undo the damage they’d inflicted on each other.
Her father seemed to weigh her words. “Do you think seeing him again is wise?”
“I … don’t know. Probably not,” she said, but the need still burned within her. “I just feel so bad about the way we ended everything….”
“Fletcher’s been out of the office for a few days, but he’s back now.”
“It’s almost Christmas and … in the spirit of the holidays I thought …”
“You thought he might listen?”
“At least long enough to understand my reasons.”
“Do you want to do this for you or for Fletcher?” her father asked.
The question was a valid one. Julie mulled it over, then answered as honestly as she could. “I don’t know. I guess it’s for me. I don’t feel right leaving things the way they are. I can’t imagine he’ll see me, but I have to try.”
“Then write him a letter.”
“A letter,” Julie repeated. “I doubt he’d read it.”
“Does that matter?” her father asked. “You’ll have said what you feel is necessary. Then you can let him go.”
“True,” she admitted, the idea taking shape. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how much had been left unsaid.
“Whether Fletcher reads it or not is up to him,” her father said. “When feelings run this strong, sometimes letters are the best form of communication. There’s less room for misunderstanding or argument.”
Julie immediately felt relieved. Writing Roy, explaining her thoughts and emotions, was a solution she hadn’t considered before. She might never learn if he’d read her letter, but she’d have the satisfaction of knowing she’d done everything she could. If he responded, good; that would mean there was still a chance. If, as she expected, she never heard from him again, she could find peace in the knowledge that she’d tried.
“Oh, Dad, I don’t think I appreciate you nearly enough.”
Dean merely grinned and picked up the television remote.
Composing the letter took all evening. Julie read it over repeatedly before she was satisfied. In the first paragraph, she thanked Roy for the good times they’d shared, for opening his home and his life to her for even this short while.
That had been the easy part of the letter. More difficult was discussing his utter rejection of her. Then she related her father’s observation, telling Roy he could only trust her as much as he allowed himself to trust. In the last third of the letter, she apologized for her own angry response to his lack of faith.
It was midnight when she finished. Although she’d had trouble sleeping since their breakup, she experienced no such difficulty that night. Once again, she marveled at her father’s wisdom. It really didn’t matter whether Roy ever read her letter. In the process of articulating her reactions she’d found the peace she sought.
The next morning, the last day of school before winter break, Julie took the letter with her, planning to drop it off at the post office. School ended at noon, but after she’d had a festive lunch with the other teachers and straightened up her classroom, it was nearly three. If she posted the letter as she’d originally intended, he might not receive it until after Christmas. She had no idea what his Christmas plans were; maybe he’d already left for a Caribbean cruise or a country inn in Vermont, she thought whimsically. At one time, she’d hoped to invite him and his mother to join her and her father. She hadn’t even had a chance to broach the subject.
Nor had she spoken to his mother since Saturday. Anne hadn’t called her, and Julie didn’t feel comfortable putting his mother in the middle of this awkward situation.
Although it meant facing Jason, the guard at the entrance, she decided to deliver the letter personally.
Julie felt his gaze on her the moment she pulled into the parking lot. His eyes didn’t leave her until she’d parked in an empty slot and then climbed out of her car. Julie half expected the security guard to block the entrance. But Jason sat at his desk, one hand on the phone, obviously ready to call for reinforcements.
He got warily to his feet when she walked in, but remained solidly behind his desk, as if it afforded him protection.
“Stay away from me,” Jason warned.
Startled, Julie glanced over her shoulder. No one else was there. She couldn’t imagine why the burly guard would be afraid of her.
“I don’t know what you did to me, lady, but I don’t want a repeat of it, understand?”
“Jason,” she said in her most conciliatory voice, “what in heaven’s name are you talking about?”
“You know.” He gestured theatrically. “Just stay right where you are. You’re not allowed in this building.”
Actually she’d expected that. “Not to worry, I don’t have any intention of storming into Mr. Fletcher’s office. I have a letter for him.” She advanced slowly toward Jason’s desk, not wanting to intimidate him any more than she already had, although how she’d done that was a mystery.
He backed
