Letters

Dear Alan,

Sorry I ran out at the reception. James was leaving, did you know? He was going to move away for good. For GOOD, Alan! I had to stop him… so I had to jump on the plane, too. We’ll be back, though. It’s just pretty relaxing here. And you know what? The way thing’s going with him, I might’ve been the person to catch Maura’s bouquet. Really!

The ceremony was beautiful, bud! It even showed up your proposal! Maura’s a really lucky girl to have you. Remember that. You guys look so happy together, like you complete each other!

I’m glad you’ve found someone who genuinely loves you. You for you. Not any other way, right? She’ll be there to nurse you when you get sick (or break something, God knows you’re due, haha, kidding!), there to laugh at all your corny jokes (okay, some of them are really good), there for you no matter what. NO MATTER WHAT. ‘Coz that’s how much she loves you, you son-of-a-gun.

This is awesome. After all the crap you took back in school, you’re now probably the happiest guy out of everyone. You’ve got everything good and well with the world. And if you ruin it by hurting Maura, I’ll hunt you down, boy!

I’m not worried, though. You guys have found paradise within each other, and I know you’re not stupid enough to let that get away.

I’ll talk to you later, okay? James and I’ll probably drop by sometime this week, providing we don’t miss our flight.

Love ya!

Charlene

“Oh, Charlene! She’s such a spontaneous goof!” Maura laughs, finished reading the letter over Alan’s shoulder.

He smiles. “But she’s right!” He curls an arm around the waist of his wife, his love. “You’re my paradise.”

“And you’re mine.” She stands on tiptoe to kiss him on the nose.

Alan lifts her up off the ground and twirls her around before returning the endearment.

o0o

Mathias Vandergraff,

Thanks for coming to the wedding. I know how busy a guy like you can be. Maura really loves the plates you gave us. Won’t let me even touch ‘em.

I noticed you ran out a little early, though. Right after Charlene bolted. I haven’t heard from either of you since. Did you tell her something? Because whatever you had to say, it was too late.

I hope you didn’t even get the chance to talk to her. You’ve passed up way too many before.

I don’t like you, Mathias. I never really did. Before, it was because of jealousy. You had everything I wanted. Now I’ve found out what kind of person you are, and I don’t like that person. You’re selfish. Always have been. And Charlene? Charlene’s happy. Without you. Leave her be. You’ve always hung around her, always watched her, always taken every opportunity to show her how much she can’t have you. Now she doesn’t want you, and it kills you.

I don’t know what goes on in that twisted little mind of yours, but people aren’t things to be bought. Charlene isn’t going to humor someone she doesn’t like for money.

Yeah. She doesn’t like you. You know what? Maybe she never really did. You may say that you actually love her, now, that you want to spend your life with her, but that would be a lie. All you’ve found with her is a challenge, and one you can’t defeat, no matter what. Leave her alone, already. Obsession isn’t love, Mathias.

Alan

Mathias crushes the paper in a strong fist, like he has done to so many things before. Especially after the retirement of his parents. When you control something as powerful as the Vandergraff’s company, crushing becomes a daily routine.

What does he know? He’s always been such an idiot…

A voice in the back of his head nags at him. ‘An honest idiot…’

Before he can think up a proper counter to himself, the intercom buzzes.

“Mr. Vandergraff, sir, two police men are here to see you.”

He arches an elegant brow. “Send them in.”

Heavy oak doors swoop open as the two aforementioned men step inside. Their hats are in their hands, fingers folded respectively.

“Mr. Vandergraff, sir, we are sorry to inform you of this, but… Charles and Elanor Vandergraff are dead.”

He is stone. He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink.

Doesn’t breathe.

o0o

Charlene,

You shouldn’t have run off. Did you run to him? You should have let him go. He’s nothing.

Talk to me. I’ll be waiting on your call.

Remember: he’ll only hurt you in the end.

Mathias Vandergraff

The letter sits on an end table, unnoticed and unopened. Its recipient is in a restaurant nearby, sitting across the table from her adoration. Together, they are safe, and together, they are happy.

In his pockets waits quietly a small, velvet box.