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At least, the first few had. Having sorted through them and put them into order, she saw that as time moved on, those earlier letters remaining unanswered, the tone of her later missives had adopted an increasingly frantic note. Did I say something wrong? The words sprang at her from the page as she perched on the edge of the bed to read. Because if I did, please tell me what it was. I’d hate to think I’d done anything to upset you. Or am I just being silly? Maybe you haven’t had time to write. I know how busy you must be this term. But I don’t need you to write me a great long letter, really. Just a couple of lines, so that I know you’re okay? Melissa winced anew. She’d only written once more after that before giving up, convinced that he must’ve changed his mind, that he hadn’t really been in love with her at all. And she’d blamed herself, decided she must have come across as too needy, too clingy, when all along, he had sent her letters too. Admittedly, not as many, she’d written. Just a small one, I’m driving.” Lynette came in and handed me a moderately large glass of wine. She sat at the other side of the sofa and offered me her glass to clink. “Cheers.” I think I was the uncomfortable one now, thoughts of porn scenes that may have taken place in this very room, with the woman sitting next to me, were flitting though my brain. I looked at the gorgeous Lynette sipping at her wine and for the first time that night I found the situation arousing. “Don’t move.” Lynette almost shouted as I lowered the glass from my lips. “Just stay completely still.” She got off the sofa and went back into the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with her scissors. She came next to me and knelt on the sofa, pointing the scissors at my left ear. “I missed a bit.” I heard a “clip” and relaxed as she withdrew the scissors. “There.” She smiled, but didn’t move away. Our eyes met and locked for a few seconds. I felt an instantaneous rise in the tension in the room and just about had.
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