Chapter 3 #3
“You scared the crap out of me. What are you doing up?”
“I’m feeling energetic today. I thought I’d get an early start.”
Robert started dressing himself without paying another thought to her. She turned the faucets on and tested the water. She hopped in the shower and started washing her hair. Robert would be gone soon. She could hear him brushing his teeth with his electric toothbrush. She conditioned her hair.
She stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel to wrap around her head.
She went to grab the large bath towel off the floor, but of course it was soaking wet and there were no other ones in sight.
She ran off, naked and dripping to the linen closet.
She shivered as she grabbed a plush towel to wrap herself in.
“Robert,” she yelled as she wrapped the towel around her slender body.
No answer. “Robert,” she yelled again as she walked over to the stairs to peek down.
He was definitely gone. The place was hers.
She quickly walked over to his office. Her heart was beating a little faster.
She wasn’t accustomed to snooping into other’s lives.
Of course, she might have done it before but it certainly wasn’t a habit.
She went to his computer, and was instantly deterred; it was locked. She had no clue was the password could be. No luck there. She proceeded to go through the papers on his desk without disturbing anything. There was nothing unusual; bills, invoices, property info sheets, directions.
“Oh what am I doing? I’m being stupid and insecure.”
She opened the wooden box on his desk and went through the receipts. Her suspicions were aroused. There were two receipts from restaurants, both for two entrées, two drinks.
“Well, that doesn’t really mean anything. Robert entertains clients all the time,” she justified to herself.
She started doubting whether she was being suspicious of Robert because of her inappropriate thoughts and feelings towards Michael. Maybe she was projecting.
And then she unfolded the final receipt; flowers, dated February 14th. She didn’t remember receiving any flowers on Valentine’s Day. Robert had given her a book and some chocolates, but no flowers. She was sure there was an explanation. Of course there was an explanation.
Stop being paranoid.
She spotted a shoe box, up high on top of the bookcase. She grabbed the desk chair, rolled it and climbed up on it. She stretched and reached for the box, a little unsteady.
She opened the box; it wasn’t what she was looking for: old photos from his childhood, ribbons for track letters from his mother, from a few friends, silly stuff. But then, one caught her attention.
Dear Robert,
I know I’ve said this too much but I do really love you. To me, you are not just a diversion as you have said. You are so much more to me. I wake up thinking of you and I go to sleep dreaming of you.....
Angela read as fast as she could, skipping to every three words or so; she couldn’t wait to digest all the contents of the letter.
Her heart was pounding; she felt both excited and nauseous.
Feelings of guilt lingered at the back of her mind but they lingered so far back she hardly took notice of them.
There was no taking her away from this letter.
I truly believe that you feel the same way about me although you confuse me.
You push me away and then you bring me back.
You bring me back so easily; just the way you look at me.
I do feel guilty every time I go back to Lance and things have not been the same between us since I’ve fallen in love with you.
That night on the ferry was the night I knew I was in love.
I’ve written this letter to bring things out in the open.
This is not just a fling for me. I hope you can be as open with me as I have been with you.
Love,
Laura
The letter was not dated. She quickly folded it and put it back in the box. Suddenly time was of the essence; she rushed to get the shoe box back where it belonged, realizing she shouldn’t be snooping.
Angela spent most of the weekend, obsessing about what she had seen in Robert’s office.
She hadn’t been able to concentrate, trying to replay in her mind the past weeks, months.
She was searching for a clue, for anything she could remember that might relate to the letter somehow.
She had searched her brain for any recollection of Robert mentioning a Laura from his past. She realized that the letter could have been from ages ago and probably was.
It could have been from eight years ago, ten years ago.
They had only been together for three years.
And when she wasn’t obsessing about the letter, she was thinking about Michael and debating whether she should return to Bowman estates. The voice of reason told her to stay away, but she had never been one to listen to her inner voices.