knew something was wrong before I opened it. Jeffrey’s letters usually started with a joke.
This one didn’t.
I didn’t want to ruin it.
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“Ruth,
Margaret and I are getting married. The ceremony is in August.”
I sat at our kitchen table staring at the sentence. I kept reading.
My best friend told me the wedding would be small and Margaret’s family was helping them get settled.
Then I reached the bottom. There was one more thing.
Jeffrey asked me not to contact him again.
I kept reading.
He said Margaret knew how close we’d been and that he wanted to give his marriage a fair start. Jeffrey said our friendship mattered too much to him to let it become something that hurt someone else.
Publicidad
Then he wrote:
“I hope you have a wonderful life, Ruthie.
I’m sorry.
Jeffrey.”
I cried for weeks.
But I
