Dear R.
How can I reconnect to my partner? They are distant from me. I feel they are hiding something. He makes me feel like I'm alone, he doesn't care.
Lonely Partner
I went to the next letter.
Dear R.
I accused my wife of having an affair....
Nope. Just answered a similar one yesterday.
Dear R.
My best friend is in a harmful relationship. He has pressured her in to drugs and alcohol abuse, she started getting marks on her skin she lies about. I feel like I'm losing her, how can I talk to her without it sounding like I'm jumping down her throat?
K. Whyte
I cracked my knuckles. I felt the pain of her losing her best friend to an addiction and before I knew it, my fingers flew over the keyboard. I pulled up some known numbers for addiction help and added that in too, letting her know that they are also a supporting company on people who suffer emotionally.
I heard a knock on the door and I peeked over my glasses at the door. Sasha stood by the frame holding a bag.
"Just a sec, Sash." I muttered with a pencil hanging out off my mouth. I quickly finished it and saved the article before swinging my chair to Sasha.
"Lunch." She purred as she sat down, her hand in the bag and pulling out a salad role. I greedily took it and unwrapped the roll, sinking my teeth in. "How's the advice going?" She asked casually.
I shrugged. "I'm getting there. A lot are estranged husbands and wife's lately." I took another bite. "How's your article going?"
Sasha was what we called a mood reporter, a little in house joke that started before I was an employee. She, with six others, write the main articles of everyday people. How someone's baby was their miracle, how someone survived the worst holiday ever, a woman marrying her ex's brother to keep the surname.
The magazine company, Soul, also has articles about health for your body and soul, a lot of adverts, diet tips, a clairvoyant section and healthy recipes.
Sasha grinned. "I just finished typing up my new one for next fortnight. I reckon it will make the cover!"
My eyes widened. "Really?" I smiled at her. "That's great." These reporters get a small bonus every week that their article is on the cover. "So, any hints?"
Sasha shook her head before fixing up her bob hair cut. "No. I don't want to jinx it."
"Fair enough." I agreed before putting the rest of the roll in to my mouth. The reporters work a couple weeks in advanced to me. The article Sasha just finished won't appear in the magazine for up to another three editions yet. The only time when something gets bumped up is when they manage to snag a one on one interview with a politician or a local hero.
"Well, I'm three letters down. Two more to go, I might get to squeeze a sixth in this week." I told Sasha as I piled the letters up. I like to answer the hand written ones, I feel more emotionally connected to those ones.
Sasha took a letter and read it. "What about this one?" She asked me as I watched her eyes scroll across. "Dear R. After my wife left me..."
I groaned. Another male one.
"I feel alone. She left me to be with someone else and claims I've lost my spunk, as she puts it. I do feel I'm losing my personality, but that was after she left." Sasha raised an eyebrow at me over the paper.
"I would tell him in the nicest way to get a pet."
"I feel I'm no longer connected to the world and feel socially isolated."
"Okay." I smiled at her. "A dog. Take regular walks with the dog, meet people while doing it, go to pet friendly areas like cafes."
"That was too easy for you." Sasha smiled as she took another letter. I snatched it back off her.
"These are private and confidential until I allow them to be printed." I pointed out. "Besides, you won't share your story."
She poked her tongue out at me. "How is Rowan?" Sasha asked, changing the subject.
I was grateful for the change of topic as we discussed our children.
After our lunch break, I was left alone in my little office once again. I was buggered, doing this is emotionally draining some days.
I collected my things and left the office to pick Rowan up for the day, my mind on what to cook for dinner. Rowan loves pasta food and I was thinking of meatballs and spaghetti.
Rowan jumped for joy when I told him after collecting him from day care. "Yeah!" He smiled at me. "Noodle races!"
I laughed at him in his enthusiasm. "Yeah, buddy, noodle races."
****
Flashback
"What's wrong, honey?" Rhea asked Ryder over dinner. He hadn't touched his food. "You've been in a foul mood all week."
"It's nothing." Ryder snapped at her.
With pursed lips, Rhea shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Tell me what's bothering you. I feel like I've done something wrong, but I don't know what."
Ryder got up and looked at his wife. His eyes in an accusing tone, making Rhea shrink in his gaze. "Is there anything you wish to tell me?"
Rhea looked at him in confusion. "No, not that I can think off."
"Anything that's work related?"
Rhea frowned even more. "Work related? No. I don't work, Ryder. I volunteer. Remember, Ryder? You didn't want me to work." Rhea sat back in the dining chair. "What's gotten in to you?"
Ryder slapped his hand down on the table, making the wine glasses shake, Rhea jumping at the reaction.
"Tell me the truth!" He roared out. Rhea flinched at his tone as she got up from her chair.
"On what? I don't know what I've done wrong!" She cried out to him.
"You lying, cheating bitch!"
The accusation felt like a slap on her face. "What...?"
"You're having an affair and you're just using me."
"Excuse me? Where did you get an idea -" Rhea tried to talk, but Ryder interrupted her.
"Don't stand there and lie to me. I know you are. I've seen it myself."
"Who the hell am I apparently sleeping -"
"Don't act innocent. This has been your plan all along, hasn't it? Just use me for my money?"
Ryder's face was red and Rhea was petrified. She has never seen her husband like this before.
"Yeah, Ryder." Rhea answered in a sarcastic tone. "Even though, against your wishes, I signed the prenup."
"You knew I didn't sign that!" Ryder growled. "I'm such an idiot."
Rhea's eyes went wide. "You didn't sign it? I didn't know that."
"Yes you did. Just go. Get out! I don't want you here. I don't want a lying manipulative and cheating bitch like you here." Ryder pointed to the front door.
Rhea held her head up, even though the tears were fresh, non stopping. "I've done nothing, Ryder! I never cheated on you!"
"Get the fuck out!" Ryder roared. Rhea jumped again as she backed away from Ryder.
"You're making a mistake, baby. I would never. I love you." Rhea's voice trembled. "I love you."
"Don't lie to me! Get out!"
"No! I haven't done anything!" Rhea screamed out as Ryder stalked towards her.
"Get the fuck out! I don't want to see you again! You won't see a cent from me!"
"Ha!" Rhea laughed at him. "I don't want your stupid money!" Rhea yelled as she stormed to the bedroom.
Slamming the door behind her, Rhea opened the closet and pulled out a bag, shoving her clothes in.
"Hurry up and get out!" Ryder growled as he stood by the door.
"I don't need you there watching over me." Rhea snapped as she hastily zipped up the bag.
"Just making sure you don't take anything I've brought you."
Rhea gasped as her eyes went wide again. She stormed up to him, adjusting the bag strap on her shoulder and went to slap his face, but Ryder grabbed her wrist.
"I don't want anything from you." Rhea spat at him. "If you just wanted a divorce, just say so, don't make up an elaborate story to kick me out."
Rhea took back her wrist and stepped away from her husband. She pulled off her wedding ring and engagement ring and placed them on the desk next to her.
The tears came and they wouldn't stop as she went down the hallway. She felt the metal chain getting cold around her neck as she picked up the pendant.
It was a flat gold heart. On one side it said Ryder and Rhea and on the other side said In my heart forever.
Rhea's fingers curled around the necklace as she snatched it off her neck and threw it across the hallway, stepping on it as she walked away.
Now
I sighed. Rowan was fast asleep in his bed as I stayed on the couch, holding a letter I penned out nearly a life time ago.
It was a letter for Ryder. After he kicked me out. I felt the sadness come over me. So many times I've read this, so many times I've held it over a candle to burn and so many times, I wouldn't do it. The amount of times I've folded it back up to rip in to pieces and yet, it was still in one piece. I would fold it back up and tuck it back in to its hiding spot.
In the book he let me have. When I first met him.
I slid the book back on the shelf and stared blankly at it. It's my past, I've moved on since then. I can't dwell in the past otherwise I'll never move forward.
I repeated my mantra every time I felt this way. It's for the best, Rhea.
But what if I'm wrong? This is why I hate answering letters that involved custody battles or young children with separated parents. I've even had to put a small advert on my page to claim I'm not a lawyer and I will not hold any consequences in any legal actions if my advice goes to court.
Rowan has never really asked about his daddy. He only has once and it was the other week,in his own little two sentenced way. This might be why I feel the way I do more constantly.
I told him that his parents were very angry with each other and it was for the best we didn't live together.
I don't know what I'm going to say when he asks where his dad is again. The older he gets, the more he understands.
I groaned to myself as my head looked towards the kitchen. My escape in the shower will have to wait. I have dishes to conquer first.
I was halfway on the dishes, my hands wet and full of bubbles when my phone rang. The landline.
I lost the cordless phone the other day and never got around to finding it. I was surprised there was still battery left in it.
I followed the noise to the lounge room and dug my hands between the cushions on the couch until I felt something hard.
I pulled it out and found my old mobile phone, now a toy that Rowan plays with. I went to the other cushion, grimacing as I felt lots of weird shit on my hand. The couch needs a good clean. The perks of having a toddler.
The phone was still ringing and I finally found it and quickly answered it, not registering what I saw on the screen.
"Hello?" I asked as I gingerly placed it on my ear. I could feel something sticky, lolly sticky.
"Rhea." I heard the voice as I let out a small shriek and threw the phone in an automatic response. I stared at it on the floor.
How did he get my house number? It's not listed. It's a private number. I inched towards it and crouched to the ground.
"Rhea?" I could hear as my finger went to the red button. But before I could push it, the phone battery died.
How? The question repeated in my head. If he knows my home number, he might know my home address....
I quickly pulled out my mobile and rang Sasha.
I don't want to talk to him. It's been nearly four years. I knew the day would come, but I still wasn't prepared for it.
If Ryder knows where I live, I can't stay here tonight.