Dear, Miss Violet. ✔

Chapter 22

Simon slowly opened Violet's letter. He sighed. For how long did he have to talk to Violet as anonymous to express his feelings?

As Simon took out her letter, he could not help but wonder. Violet took out the effort of writing and making sure the letter she wrote was reaching ambient garden, safely.

Had Violet developed a liking for anonymous?

Simon frowned. He could not tell. Not until he opened her letter. He knew that it had surely been quite a time since he had written to her.  Simon knew he had done a mistake when Violet did not reply to his previous letter. It frightened him to think about the consequences if their correspondence was stopped because of a silly error.

He sighed as he opened her letter. It read-

Dear Anonymous,

The reason behind not writing back to you, might catch you off guard.

I'm sorry but your cowardice is extremely off-putting and I can't help but wonder what has caused a beautiful writer like you to turn out to be a man of fear.

You should not care whether I'll like you or not.

You should care whether you'll ever like yourself or not.

You should have the confidence of a gentleman, and sorry, but I don't see that in you.

I'm giving you one last chance to show your true self to me.

Tomorrow is Lord Frederick's party. I hope we meet there.

Yours truly,

Miss Violet.

Simon pressed his lips together, and holding the letter in his hand, he walked to the window.

He looked out to the trees and streets, and then closed his eyes.

Cowardice.

A cowardly man.

Hell, it stung.

He raked his hands through his hair and narrowed his eyes.

What was he supposed to do?

On one hand, from the letter, it seemed that Violet was really angry. But at the same time, she did possess the heart to meet 'anonymous'.

And given Simon's and Violet's budding friendship, he could not risk losing her by telling her that all the while she was in correspondence with Simon himself.

Violet would hate a liar.

And on the other hand, he could not risk not showing up and losing the beautiful opportunity of being in touch with Violet through the letters.

Even if they were friends, some things that Simon always wanted to tell Violet could only be revealed through letters. He needed to tell her how much she mattered to him. But he needed to tell her this anonymously. Because he just could not tell her in person. The conditions, his horrific past and his miserable life, just did not allow that.

Simon poured himself some fine french wine, pulled out his cravat, and sat on his bed.

He decided to just go with the flow.

He would meet Violet tomorrow, as Simon, and not as anonymous.

Simon decided to let himself loose. 

For once.

At least for once.

Next day, as Simon prepared for Lord Frederick's party, he looked at himself in the mirror.

He realized how handsome he really was. He realized why he was being called a rake for most part of his youth.

Simon's reputation had always been eminent during his college days.

He was extremely brilliant in mathematics, was effortless in learning new languages, played sports like a champion, had unbelievable observation and was freakishly handsome.

Simon lived a heaven of a life back then, and he had to admit that he missed it. He missed everything.

He missed being the popular man who was known for his talent, and not his dangerous personality.

He missed his pals' friendly gestures as they'd meet, because nowadays his pals just nodded their head upon seeing Simon, secretly hoping he'd move away from them without harming any one of them.

Simon could feel a tear roll down his left eye. Everyone hated him

Literally everyone.

He readied himself, and looked in the mirror for one last time.

Everyone surely did hate him, except for Violet.