Larkin's Letters (10 page)

Letter #19 - April 8, 2012

Dear Ryan,

I don’t know why, but I have decided to keep writing to you. I know we have gone our separate ways, but I meant it when I said you will always be my best friend. I am going to continue to write to you just so you never forget that you are the most important person in my life. I want you to know how I am doing. One day I will send you these letters. When the time is right.

I am still feeling pretty good. It is only a couple of more weeks until I find out if the chemotherapy worked. I would be lying to you if I told you I wasn’t scared. I’m terrified.

I would also be lying to you if I told you I didn’t miss you. That I wish I hadn’t left that day. That maybe you do really love me and I was stupid for pushing you away. But I was watching the awards ceremony on TV tonight, and I saw you on the red carpet with Abigail. You were smiling and holding her hand. You looked so happy. You looked free. You were where you belong. That’s when I realized I had made the right decision. That you had made the right decision.

I am happy for you, Ryan. I am happy that you are free. Free from the obligation that you feel towards me. Free from the strangling grasp of my sickness.

Now it’s time for you to fly.

As Ryan finished reading this letter, he realized how wrong Larkin had been. He wasn’t happy. He wasn’t free. It had all been an act. An act for the cameras. The two weeks prior to that awards ceremony had not been all that great, at least for him. Abigail had started to feel comfortable again with him. She was back to her old habits. He had started to see that it was more important to her to be seen with him than it was to actually be with him. She wanted him to be by her side for every event she needed to attend, but when they had free time to spend together, she would rather go out to parties with her friends. He was essentially her arm candy.

The night of the awards ceremony was a revelation for Ryan. He had started to realize what type of person she really was when he saw how she would flaunt him in front of the cameras and hear some of the comments she made to fellow actors, especially the comment she made when a fellow actress had made a remark about how it was nice seeing them back together again.

“Yes, it is great. He finally has his priorities straight,” she had replied.

That comment had angered him.
Priorities? Aren’t you the one who left me in the first place? Where were
your priorities?
He couldn’t believe how she couldn’t understand that helping his best friend in need, a friend who was fighting for her life no less, wasn’t a priority. He had decided to not say anything about it so he wouldn’t create a scene in front of everyone and the cameras.

Later that night, despite his silent anger toward her, he didn’t try to stop her advances as she climbed into bed next to him. She had a way with him, and he could never find a way to say no to her. But that particular night, every time he would kiss her or look into her eyes, he would see Larkin and be transported back to that night they shared together. He suddenly realized he didn’t belong there with Abigail. He belonged with Larkin. He quickly put a stop to what they were doing, got dressed, and went downstairs to gather his thoughts. He grabbed his phone to call Larkin before Abigail came and interrupted him.

“Ryan, what’s wrong?” Her tone was that of anger. Anger because he had stopped what they were doing.

“Abby, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t let you keep manipulating me into loving you. I thought I did love you, but I was wrong.”

“How am I manipulating you, Ryan? I didn’t force you to come here.”

“No, you didn’t, but you certainly know the right things to say, and the right things to wear, and the right looks to give me.”

“Ryan, we belong together. You know we do.”

“Why? Because we look good on each other’s arm?”

“No, because we love each other.”

“No, Abigail. This isn’t love. You love the fame and the fortune that we give each other. You love the excitement of this industry. You love the physical relationship we share. But there is so much more to true love than just physicality.”

“How would you know that? You act as if you’ve experienced true love before.”

“I have. And regrettably, I left it behind when I came back here, and I don’t know if I will be able to get it back.”

“Who? Larkin? Come on, Ryan, that’s not true love. You just feel sorry for her, that’s all. She’s the one manipulating you.”

Ryan couldn’t believe what had just come out of Abigail’s mouth. “Are you kidding me, Abby? If Larkin were manipulating me then why would she have pushed me away? She’s the one who encouraged me to come back to you.”

Neither of them said anything for a while. Finally, Ryan broke the silence. “Abigail, you are not a bad person. I just hope that one day you will be able to experience true love because there is nothing like it. You need to get
your
priorities straight and realize what is important in life. Because it is not this. Trust me.”

The next morning, Ryan walked out of Abigail’s life forever. He didn’t know if Larkin would take him back, but he was going to do everything he could to fight for her. He landed that evening in Atlantic City and stopped by to check on the house he and Larkin had shared, as well as the boat. He made a phone call to someone he had been working with on a project before
he had gone back to Los Angeles and then nervously drove his SUV across the bay to Larkin’s parents’ house. He couldn’t stop the shaking in his hands as he pondered what he could possibly say to her.

Larkin’s father hesitantly allowed Ryan into their home to see her. He could tell he wasn’t happy with him. It wasn’t too late, but she had already gone to bed.

“How is she, sir?”

“She’s okay. Ryan, she’s already been through enough with the cancer and then you leaving…”

“I am not here to hurt her, I can assure you,” Ryan interrupted.

After studying him for a while, Larkin’s father finally let him pass, the turn of his head guiding Ryan toward the direction of the stairway.

Ryan found Larkin sleeping peacefully in her bed with the TV on in the background. He turned it off and climbed into the bed next to her, lightly brushing his fingers on her cheek. Seeing her face again assured him he was doing the right thing; he was supposed to be with her. Her eyes struggled to open, but when he was finally able to see those blue eyes he had missed, he mouthed the word “hi” to her.

She was surprised to see him. “Ryan? What are you doing here?”

“I belong here. I should have never left. Come home with me, Larkin.”

She was still trying to wake up. “What about Abigail?”

“I don’t love Abigail. I thought I did, but the truth is
I love you, and I want you to come home.”

“I can’t give you what she can, Ryan.”

“No, you’re wrong. She can’t give me what
you
can, what you already have given me.”

“What’s that?”

“True love. A home. A best friend. A lullaby. I didn’t realize all of this until you were no longer in my life. But I know now we belong together. So, come home with me, Larkin. Let’s keep on living.”

Letter #20 - April 11, 2012

Dearest Ryan,

You have come back to me. I guess that saying “if you love someone, set them free; if they come back it was meant to be” is true. I can’t believe you have come back to me. Why are you so good to me?

We came back to our home yesterday, and we picked up right where we left off. We shared another amazing night together. It was what I needed to truly believe that you do love me and that you do want to be here with me. We are back in our old routine, and just like always, you left this morning for your daily fishing trip. I know how excited you were to get back on your boat.

I want to tell you about how worried I was about you earlier this afternoon. I awoke to a heavy fog and light drizzle, and I know you are smart enough to know better than to take the boat out in this weather, but you were not home and neither was the boat. I tried to call you twice, but you never answered; however, I am not surprised. I know there is never a good cell phone signal in the middle of the bay, but it was later than normal. You were usually back by then. I tried to focus on my manuscript, but my emotions were all over the place. I had just had an amazing night with the man of my dreams, your proposal from weeks ago was still on my mind (although neither of us have mentioned it), I was nervous about your safety, and of course, the leukemia is never far from my mind. My brain was bruised and battered from all the thoughts that were rushing in and out.

I paced from one room to the other. I prepared a pot of coffee. I unloaded the dishwasher. I folded yesterday’s laundry and put a new load in. I swept the back deck, wiped down the patio furniture, and watered the newly planted spring bulbs that border the side of the house. I prepared a meatloaf and stored it in the fridge to be cooked later for our dinner. I read two chapters from the novel I had just started three nights ago. I vacuumed the carpets before transferring the laundry from the washer to the dryer. I felt like I had done a day’s worth of chores, but only two hours had passed and still no sign of you.

I gathered my thoughts, grabbed my novel, and climbed under the covers of our king-sized bed. Before I knew it, my escape into the novel was interrupted by the sound of the boat engine as it pulled into the dock. I quickly rose to look out the window and saw you tying the rope from the boat to the cleat. I watched as you rinsed the boat off with the hose, locked up all the compartments, and finally, put the cover on the boat to protect it from the rain. I noticed you were carrying a small plastic bag and, of course, your daily bouquet of flowers you bring me every day. This time, red roses. You have no idea how happy I was to see you.

I waited by the sliding glass door as you greeted me with your crooked smile, making your way up the deck stairs. I craved your embrace.

“Hey! I was worried about you,” I said, my craving satisfied as you wrapped me up in your arms. You didn’t have the usual smell of saltwater, fish, and bait that you normally have when you get home.

“I didn’t go very far. I know better,” you assured me.

“How was fishing?”

“Actually, I didn’t go fishing today. I went somewhere else. What did you do this morning?” you quickly asked as if you were trying to change the subject.

“I cleaned the house.” I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Oh really? So I guess you are feeling pretty good today, huh?”

“Actually, yes,” I agreed.

“Good, because I want to take you somewhere. You up for it?”

“I would love to. Where?”

“It’s a surprise.”

I love surprises, and I can’t wait to see where you are taking me. I am writing this letter as I sit next to you in the SUV. But you keep wanting to hold my hand, so I am going to end this letter. I have a feeling I will want to write another one after this surprise you have for me. Until then.

Ryan closed the letter with a smile on his face. That was a great day with Larkin, and he remembered the night before as fondly as she had remembered it in the letter. And the surprise? That was pretty special, too. He closed his eyes reliving that moment.

Ryan loved feeling Larkin’s hand wrapped in his as they rested on the center console.

“What are you writing over there?” he inquired.

“Nothing important,” she said, trying to disregard his curiosity. He decided to leave her alone about it. She would share what she was working on with him when she was ready. He weaved his SUV in and out of traffic as if they were the only ones on the road. Thankfully, there wasn’t too much traffic. Ocean City and the surrounding towns became ghost towns anytime it rained, and that day was no exception. His heart was pounding with anticipation of what was to come when they arrived at their destination. But for now, he was going to savor the ride with her. As they got closer, Ryan pulled over and put a blindfold over Larkin’s eyes so she wouldn’t be able to see the surprise once they got there.

When they arrived, he carefully guided her out of the SUV and into the driveway of a two-story five-bedroom house that sat along the inlet in Longport, New Jersey. He walked her to the back deck that extended to a private beach and dock that sat between two sand dunes just before the water met the earth. The deck gave way to a breathtaking view of Ocean City as it nestled under the Longport Bridge right across the inlet.

“Okay. Are you ready?”

“Yes!” He could tell she was anxious.

He took her blindfold off, and as she looked around and took in her surroundings, he couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking. He could tell she was having a hard time figuring out what to say.

“Ryan.” She paused, looking around again at the house and the beach. “Ryan, where are we? Whose house is this?”

“Well, Larkin,” he paused for a moment, “it’s our house.”

She quickly turned her head and fixated her eyes onto his. “What?”

“It’s our house. I have had my eye on it for a while. Since before I left. I just bought it. That’s where I was this morning. It will be our home after we get married.” He could see the surprise on her face as he said those words. Ryan knelt down before Larkin, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a box that housed an engagement ring he had picked out for her earlier that morning. He grabbed her hand. “I meant what I said that first night we were together. I didn’t forget what I said to you.” He paused for a moment before he found the courage to say those words again. “Marry me, Larkin.”