For some moments, she stood at the door of her room, let in a long deep breath, then wearily walked in. As she passed by her bed, she threw her green coat carelessly on it and slumped onto a chair. At least, that sky-high file on my desk was taken care of, she muttered.
Her thoughts roamed to those last hours of office work that afternoon. The Department Head had been aware of the strain she had been suffering from uncomplainingly; he told her that she could go home and rest. But like the efficient secretary that she was, she simply gratefully smiled at the thoughtfulness and went on with her work. Later on, her office-mates invited her to the scheduled bowling tournament some four blocks away from the office, but she tactfully declined the invitation. She preferred the satisfaction of being alone sometimes.
Her sullen eyes gazed through the pink-draped window into the slowly darkening blue of the sky. She loved the beauty of nature. Even the faint rustling of the leaves of the trees outside gave her an inexplicable sensation.
An envelope, partly hidden under her table lamp suddenly caught her attention. The handwriting was familiar. Almost at once, that particular Saturday afternoon became bright, the kind that makes one wish it would always be that way. As she picked up the letter, she wondered why she felt a foolish gladness sweep through her. The letter refused to open easily. Not wanting to spoil its smoothness, she took the plastic letter opener from the bottles of pencils in the shelf. Carefully, she slit the envelope open, pulled out the contents, and began to read.
Sweetheart...
.
A mixed feeling of rapture and surprise welled up in her. Why, Fred never called her that before! She might mean that much to him, after all.
First, the letter pursued, I want to tell you how much I have missed you since I saw you the last time. The trip was exciting especially because there were nice people around. I'll be back again with you in about a week. We can then finally realize our plans.
She stared blankly at the paper and heaved a deep sigh. Plans? they did not have any plans. He never spoke of plans. Well, they used to spend the Sunday afternoons around the park or by the seashore. They would speak of life and about what being young meant. Fred was always in a good mood but there were times when she was not sure of what he would be thinking about. He used to be serious at times, but it was just that. Her eyes returned to the letter.
There's something I've intended to tell you. Remember what we said about opening our hearts to each other? Well, I met a girl. You know when you get lonesome sometimes, Honey, you seek someone to talk to. When I saw her, I thought of you. She's a little taller than you. Her hair is short and curly. Her face seemed to be always decked with smiles. Her name is Linda. I met her at an office party and we talked a lot, just as you and I did about many things. She was intelligent and unselfish, that's why I liked her. But I don't want you to think that I had forgotten you, or that she ever took your place in my heart. Linda is a wonderful girl, a lot of fun. There couldn't be harm in a little friendship like that. But I'll be honest with you. If I hadn't known you, I would love her, but you were first and nothing could change that. I haven't seen her for some time already. that's over now, I promise. I'll just write her a little note thanking her for being a wonderful girl, and she'll understand.
Well, Honey, I'm glad you know everything now. And I hope this doesn't make any difference between us. I don't see any reason why it should. And if you never think of it again, neither will I. See you soon.
I love you,
Fred
For a moment, she held the last page in her hand, confused thoughts racing in her mind, then walked listlessly toward the window. She was a tall girl with short curly hair. People often said her face was always radiant with happiness, but there was no smile in it now. And her name was Linda. She was thinking how Fred would feel if he knew he had placed the letters in the wrong envelopes. How pleased the girl he loved would be upon receiving this little thoughtful note. And he would love her more for what he thought would be her silent understanding.
The sun was now setting, gloriously red, proclaiming the close of another day. The fragrant afternoon breeze dominated the atmosphere, and the birds began to take themselves to shelter. She picked up her green coat, and with the letter clenched in her hand, walked out of the room.
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