Young Writers Society

Okay, this is my first proper romantic story, I'd really like some opinions on it. Be honest

Chapter 1


Dear Aunt Clara,

Three months ago I broke up with my boyfriend and I was so upset I went out to a bar for some time by myself. The trouble is I got really drunk and ended up sleeping with this guy that I’ve known for a while. We both agreed it was a mistake and decided to get on with our lives. Now I’m perfectly happy with a new boyfriend, but recently I discovered that I’m pregnant. I’ve only ever been with these three guys, but I’ve no idea who the father is and I haven’t told any of them yet. What should I do?

Anonymous

My hands were trembling as I folded the letter. I knew that writing to an agony aunt in a teenage magazine was a corny idea, but I felt I had no choice. This situation was much too scary for me to deal with on my own. I’d actually taken three pregnancy tests in a desperate attempt that maybe it was just a mistake, but they’d all come out positive. I pulled my copy of Spicy towards me and began writing out the address. I didn’t want to imagine how ‘Aunt Clara’ would react if she knew that the three guys I’d been with happened to be three of the most famous men in the world. News that was certain to cause another major tabloid scandal, alongside several others that I had already created by:

 Dating Prince Richard after meeting him at university then breaking up with him a year later

 Sleeping with Jack Ashby just weeks after he’d divorced his wife

 Dating Jordan Berry and breaking up with him very publicly few days later.

 And now getting together with Nicholas Thorpe.

 Oh, and also being voted The Most Talked about Woman of the Year

Now I was stuck in the biggest rut ever and I could see no way out. At least I could rule out the possibility that Jordan Berry was the baby’s father; he and I had never actually slept together. Two weeks later, I met Nicholas at a big awards ceremony in London and instantly fell in love. After that the tabloid stories about me seemed never-ending.

I had actually been the subject of an article that had appeared in that month’s copy of Spicy magazine. The article was titled: Celeb Girls: Losing Their Touch? Going from ‘Wahey’ to ‘No Way'! and consisted of carefully scrutinizing the dating history of four ‘celebrities’ with pictures of them and their boyfriends, linking them with the headings: This hot girl… went from this hot guy… to this kinda cute guy… to this total minger. Of course, the appropriate photos were accompanied by painfully witty captions.
The unfortunate girls were Britney Spears, Kerry Katona, Kate Moss, and me. I was right at the bottom, underneath all of the others, starting with a picture of me and then, in order, Prince Richard, Jordan Berry and Nicholas at the end.

I couldn’t help but notice that they hadn’t actually included Jack Ashby – that little slip-up might have been too strange even for them. It had been too wild and crazy for most newspapers to publish. One tabloid managed to print a very short account of the incident, ending with the words ‘Now you know why you should never let yourself get so drunk that you end up doing something stupid’.

It was lucky that the media hadn’t actually discovered that I’d had a crush on Jack Ashby back before I was famous, and not just because of his rich superstar status. The night that we’d got together I had been a little tipsy, perhaps, but not so drunk that I was unable to control my own actions.
When I went to the bar that night I was upset about my break-up with Richard, and Jack was depressed about his recent divorce. We already knew each other as we’d met at a party a few months before. Richard had introduced me to Jack, knowing that I was a big fan. Of course he hadn’t known about my past feelings as I had kept that a secret for years even from my closest friends.

So we both went to the same bar, met up, got chatting, had a drink together, talked for a short while about our break-ups and old memories without being recognised by any of the locals – or so we thought. One thing led to another, and we ended up getting a taxi back to Jack’s hotel room together.

I still don’t know how the newspapers managed to find out, but two days later, the story and a photo of me leaving the hotel were splashed across the front of what seemed like every newspaper and magazine in the world. The story was titled ‘Courtney Jennings Goes From Fresh-Faced Royalty to Ageing Rock Star’, and went on for two whole pages, including statements from several people who had seen me and Jack together in the bar and then head back to his hotel room in a taxi.

Any normal couple in that situation would have been too embarrassed to even speak to each other about the incident afterwards, but Jack and I very dignified about it. As soon as we woke up together the next morning we knew that it had been a mistake. A passionate night together, but a mistake nonetheless.

I had actually admitted to having feelings for him a while back, even though I had regarded it as a silly schoolgirl crush, and Jack had admitted that he thought I was a very attractive young girl, but it was wrong time, the age gap was too big for us to simply ignore, and the media would certainly never let us forget it. He was just so kind – his biggest worry, he said, was that he may have hurt my feelings, because I was still so young and vulnerable. But I assured him it was all right, that what he said made perfect sense, and that we could of course put this incident behind us and just stay friends.

The sound of a car horn in the street outside awoke me from my daze. Shaking my head slightly, wondering where I was for several moments, I glanced down at the magazine article again.

The first picture, of course, was one of Prince Richard smiling – I’d forgotten that most girls in the UK considered him a total hottie. The caption underneath read: What a pity; to think that Courtney could have been the next Queen of England....
The next picture in the line was one of Jordan Berry, with his ruffled blonde hair looking rather cute, and that caption read: Jordan Berry might have been fit, but they still split after only 10 days.

The last picture in the news article was probably the most painful for me. It was of course one of Nicholas, not exactly what I’d call the most flattering picture of him, and the caption underneath read: All together now: couldn’t she have chosen someone more normal?

I groaned. How dare they write things like that? Nicholas was a beautifully kind and wonderful person and did not deserve to be talked like that. I hadn’t shown him the article, of course – I didn’t want to upset him. We were perfectly happy now, we’d been together for six lovely weeks, and nothing could possibly come between us.

I glanced fearfully down at my stomach.

Except this.

This is a good story. it has great discriptions and is very easy to follow. Keep up the great work . i loke how u kept the reader hanging. please keep writing or teel me if u already have.

-Beautful Angelic Goth

awww, thanks, i'm glad you liked it. i have already completed it; it has 46 chapters altogether which i'll of course post on here. i'll let you know once i post the next one!

Green = Comment/Correction
Black = Review

*

I couldn’t help but noticing that they hadn’t actually included Jack Ashby – that little slip-up might have been too strange even for them.

I think you could take out –ing from ‘noticing’ and add an ‘e’.

*

Hello!

The first thing I noticed was the paragraphs all jumbled together, very hard to read so please space them out.

The captions were too long, the media usually go for ‘short and to the point’ sentences. I don’t know, I’m not one to read about celebrities, useless stuff that I don’t care about.

The history of her boyfriends was like info dump, you could have had a few conversations in there. These are made-up celebrities, but with bits of dialogue the reader will get a picture of each character and what they might be like—not just appearances. I couldn’t really see the boyfriends expect for Courtney because she is telling it all one sided.

You have to give this flavour, why should I care about Nicholas or if Courtney missed out on being the next Queen?

-- Myth

At first, I thought that she was actually writing to her aunt, Clara, and I was like omgwtf, because my aunties are the last people I would tell if I were pregnant. It was an interesting twist that she was a celebrity. (Is she really only 17? You mentioned university - why would a 17 year old be in university? Why would a seventeen year old be a rock queen - pop princess, maybe, but not rock queen.)

I think it could use some expanding, and maybe take out any references to the year or country, to help with the suspension of disbelief. "Most Talked About Woman of the Year" and such.

okay, thanks for the advice - i sorted out that one little mistake and spaced out the paragraphs, so it's easier to read. and i also trimmed the captions a little. and maybe once i post the second chapter it'll be easier to understand

Any normal couple in that situation would have been too embarrassed to even speak to each other about the incident, but Jack and I very dignified about it.

Hehehe... you do what I do too! You missed a word.

This is pretty neat! I wouldn't start with the letter... or at least the italics part. But this does look like an interesting story.

okay, well, here's the next bit:


Chapter 2


“Hey, Courtney – I’m back! Are you in here?” Nicholas called out cheerfully, as the door to our hotel room banged open.

I jumped, jolted out of my trance-like state by the sudden noise and I quickly snatched the envelope containing the letter to Aunt Clara and shoved it out of sight into the desk drawer. I didn’t want him to find out about it just yet.

The door opened and Nicholas came heading into our bedroom, looking quite cheerful.

“Hey, gorgeous – how was your day?” he asked, wrapping his arms around my waist as he kissed me on the cheek.

“It was great – I kinda miss you, though. How did the recording go?” I asked him, smiling as he slumped down on the bed, playfully pulling me over with him.

“Oh, it was kinda hard actually – I had to re-record that last song about 3 times, one of my backup vocalists kept getting the one line wrong, it was so annoying,” Nicholas sighed. Then he glanced down at me. “Are you okay? You seem a little quiet.”

“Oh, it’s nothing – I just really miss Liza,” I said, saying the first excuse that came into my head. Liza was my flatmate that staying in our shared apartment back in Rolverton – this past week me and Nicholas had been staying at a hotel in London, while Nicholas did some recording in a well-known studio there. Although I was due to return in a few days, I’d missed my best friend Liza dreadfully this past week – we normally did everything together.

“Awww, don’t worry – you’ll be seeing her again soon. My private jet plane is gonna take us back up to Rolverton at lunchtime next Thursday – you’ll be home in no time,” he said, smiling reassuringly at me.

“Where will you stay, Nicholas?” I asked.

“With a close friend of mine along in Edinburgh – but I’ll come down and visit you every day, baby, I promise,” he said seriously. Then he glanced past me, at the magazine that lay open on the desk, and frowned as he caught sight of his own picture. “Hey, what’s that?”

“Oh, nothing, Nicholas – just a stupid thing, it’s –” I mumbled, trying to stop him but he reached past me, picking the magazine up and read the article. The look on his face was one of shock, annoyance and slight hurt, which rattled me.

“Jeez, they aren’t really very complimentary, are they? And frankly I think you’re much better off than that idiot Britney Spears,” he muttered, carelessly tossing the magazine back onto the desk. “Gosh – I’m surprised that you actually read that rubbish, Courtney.”

“Well, they’re not very nice ion that way, but really Spicy magazine is actually quite helpful, it gives good advice and news and stuff,” I mumbled pathetically, not wanting to mention the real reason I was keeping the magazine.

“All right, you just keep a lookout for that kind of stuff – there’s almost no such thing as good press these days,” he sighed. “By the way, I’m really sorry that I have to go to that stupid press conference tonight, I’d much sooner be here with you.”

“It’s okay, Nicholas, really – I’ll be fine by myself. I understand you have duty calls,” I said, with a small smile. “I’ll just sit in and watch some movies or something.”

“You sure you won’t feel lonely, baby?” he said softly, his hand trailing slowly down my front.

I teasingly took hold of his hand and kissed it. “Yes, I’ll be fine, honestly. What time will you be back?”

“Uh, I think maybe I'll be able to get a taxi back at about half past ten or so. You will wait up for me, won’t you, baby?” Nicholas asked.

“Well, I’ll try – but if I’ve fallen asleep by the time you get back, Nicholas, you could always wake me up in your special way…” I said suggestively, gently touching his neck.

“Is that an invitation, baby?” he asked softly.

“Well, it could be… you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” I said seductively.

Nicholas set off for his press conference at around half past seven, warning me not to leave the hotel unless absolutely necessary because the paparazzi might be hanging around, they’d heard we were staying in this hotel. I waved him off at the door to our hotel room, then I headed back inside and closed the door behind me.

All of a sudden, I was reminded of the letter to Aunt Clara that had been unceremoniously shoved in the desk drawer in our bedroom, waiting for me to retrieve it. Luckily Nicholas hadn’t spotted earlier. Feeling as if a huge weight had suddenly been transferred onto my shoulders, I slowly headed through to our room, pulled the brown envelope out from the drawer and looked at it for what felt like ages, with the address written in blue ink and a stamp already stuck on it.

Dear Aunt Clara…

Well, now was as good a time as any to go out and post it. Plus I was starting to feel slightly claustrophobic in the hotel room. Even though it was large and luxurious, it felt strangely confined, almost like a little prison.

I glanced nervously at the heavy snow falling out of the window. Dusk was just beginning to fall; the icy sky outside was the colour of steel and snow was falling thick and heavy. I tucked the envelope into my pocket, quickly grabbed my furry coat and scarf, and quickly ran out of the room.

I hurried along the corridor, down the stairs and along to the reception desk with my scarf pulled up over my face although there was no real reason why anyone here should recognise me. There was just a bunch of normal people and no one gave me a second look. Still, I wasn’t taking any chances.

“Um, excuse me, is there a post-box near here?” I nervously asked the woman behind the reception desk.

“Oh, yes – there’s a Post Office just along the road to the right; it has a post-box right outside,” the lady said with a friendly smile, although her eyes looked confused as to why I had my scarf pulled over my face.

“Thanks,” I mumbled and I quickly darted outside. The wind whipped my hair up in the air, played with it and made it dance in the dim glow from a nearby lamppost. I furtively pulled my coat tighter around me, and quickly crossed the slush-streaked road. I skidded and slipped as I reached the pavement, nearly losing my balance.

“Are you okay, dear?” An old lady held out to her arm to help me, looking concerned.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” I stuttered, quickly scrambling to my feet and pulling away from her, I didn’t mean to be unkind, but I was so afraid of being recognised. I quickly ran to the post office, stood outside the post-box and slowly pulled the letter out of my pocket, staring at it for what felt like ages. Tiny drips from the roof of the building dripped onto my hands and arms.

Well, here goes…

I quickly opened the lid and slipped the letter inside, bit by bit, until the brown envelope disappeared from my sight completely.

Dear Aunt Clara…

In that moment, I suddenly realise that next month’s issue of Spicy magazine couldn’t possibly come out soon enough…

This was a good chapter. it flowed along nicely and i was able to understand it clearly. i didn't find any grammer or spelling mistakes. I hope Nicholas doesn't leave her when he finds out about the baby aven though that would be a really cool twist. keep writing!!

I'm really liking this. I've found what I think is a mistake in the second chapter.

Although I was due to return in a few days, I’d missed her best friend Liza dreadfully this past week – we normally did everything together.

I think you meant either "Although I was due to return in a few days. I'd missed her, my best friend Liza, dreadfully this past week - we normally did everything together"

or

"Although I was due to return in a few days, I'd missed my best friend Liza dreadfully this past week - we normally did everything together"

I think that the second one makes more sense. Keep posting chapters.

Well Done

okay, thanks for pointing that out, i've fixed that problem.

i'll post chapter 3 soon, thank you for your comments

okay, here it is:


Chapter 3


After I’d posted the letter I ran back to my hotel room as fast as I could – luckily I never fell on the road, although I nearly got whacked in the face by a snowball thrown by some seven-year-old boy from across the road, whose mother immediately scolded him, insisting ‘you shouldn’t throw snowballs at strangers.’

I gave her a slight wave, meaning ‘that’s all right’, then I turned to head back inside, and bumped straight into a tall man in a pinstriped suit.

“Whoops, sorry about that,” the man said, grabbing my arm helpfully as I skidded again on the slippery pavement.

“Yeah, sorry – thanks,” I mumbled, brushing away several snowflakes that had fluttered down and got stuck to my eyelashes. My scarf had fallen off my shoulder and now one end of it trailed on the ground, already soggy from the snow. Sighing irritably, I yanked it back up, shaking the snowflakes off it, gave the man a small smile and ran back inside the hotel.
It was so much warmer inside the lobby. I quickly wiped my damp trainers on the front door mat, gave the lady behind the reception desk a quick smile of thanks and ran back up to my hotel room, pulled my coat off and slumped onto the couch, feeling as if I’d just run a marathon along The Great Wall of China.

What could I do now? The new issue of Spicy magazine probably wouldn’t be out for ages. And what if Aunt Clara failed to find a solution to my problem? What then?

Sighing, I rolled over onto my back and stared moodily up at the ceiling. I really wished that I had someone to talk to about this. I badly wanted to phone Liza and tell her about all of this; she would be supportive. But I couldn’t, I had no money to use a payphone and I’d already decided that I wouldn’t tell anyone else until I’d at least managed to get some professional advice from Aunt Clara. I’d promised myself that three days ago, after I’d taken my third pregnancy test and confirmed it was much too clear for coincidence.

My hand slowly moved onto my stomach. It didn’t feel any different, but then again there was a whole world of difference – there was a little baby growing inside me now. A baby. And who on earth, let alone me, knew who far on it was or who was the father?

I cast my mind back to Prince Richard. God, that felt like so long ago. True, we had broken up about two months ago, but babies didn’t really start to show until it was like over five moths – it was entirely possible that he could be the father. Plus, given that I’d only been dating Nicholas for four weeks, it seemed most likely that Prince Richard was the father of my baby, given the amount of times that we had been intimate together. A whole year, I thought to myself. My god.

Then there had been Jack. One night, a silly drunken mistake. Could it really be him? The chances were about 1 in 300. But the chance was still there. And what scared me the most, was that I felt mixed emotions whenever I thought about Jack… I had never really known for sure whether or not my old feelings for him had really gone away.

And then, there was Nicholas. Dear, sweet, kind Nicholas, who I loved with all my heart, and would rather die than lose him. But how would he react to this news? That his loving girlfriend was going to be giving birth to a child that might not even be his?

Desperate to find something to distract my mind from all the worrying and the stress, I picked up the remote from the floor with one limp arm and turned on the TV.

“And then you add a little spring off parsley,” the smiling woman in an apron said, “to make the soup taste extra spicy–”

Boring! I flipped the channel over.

“And in today’s news–”

No thanks. Click.

“How would you like to permanently rid your garden of weeds?”

“I do not have any weeds in my garden, thank you very much,” I said aloud in a haughty posh accent, then I giggled. I flipped the channel over again and gave a yelp of surprise.

“So, what can you tell us on the development of your current new album then, Jack?”

Oh god. It was Jack, sitting there being interviewed on some famous chat show. My heart jumped at the sight of him. I tried to quickly scramble my brain back into gear and change the channel, but a little tiny part of me made my hand feebly drop the remote.

“Oh, well, it’s coming along well, no complaints,” Jack said casually, running a hand through his slightly greying hair. “I’m hoping that it’ll be completed within three weeks or so.”

“And do you have anything to say about the news report concerning that one interesting night with Prince Richard’s ex-girlfriend?” the host asked, and the audience laughed. Jack smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, I just had to ask,” the host guy said.

“Well, all that I can say for that is that Courtney Jennings is a very friendly and pretty young girl, we knew each other quite well, and that one night was just a silly drunken mistake,” Jack said thoughtfully. “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t slightly attracted to her, but the timing was all wrong – we’d both only just got out a major relationship, and the age gap was just really too big for us to ignore.”

“But if you could go back in time, would you have perhaps stopped it from happening?” the host guy asked nosily. The audience seemed on tenterhooks, waiting for a reply.

“Well, if I’m totally honest, I don’t think I would – that night certainly helped to get over my split from Daisy, plus – well, I can’t deny that a little part of me wanted it to happen. She is a very pretty woman, after all,” Jack said, with a small sigh. Then he leaned forward slightly and folded his hands in his lap. “You know, I still think to think that if the circumstances had been different, things might’ve worked out with me and her.”

The host guy and the audience nodded their approval, their eyebrows raised. I just lay still as a statue on the sofa, completely stunned. My arm still dangled limply off the side off the couch.

Oh my god… I thought to myself, as a tear slowly trickled down my face, what would Jack think if he saw me now...?

this is really good, it has a good idea in my oponion, I will enjoy readong more of this!

This is not all that bad cook. Take it as a compliment because you know that I think Romances are.. Well. You know that I just don't like romances because I've never had such a thing as a romance in my life.

Keep on writing.

okay, here's Chapter 4!


Chapter 4


Later that night, I lay awake in the bed clutching the duvet cover tightly in my hands. I was in my black silk nightie and it was also ten o’clock but I was much too stressed to go to sleep. The interview with Jack on TV earlier had deeply shaken me.

“What did he mean by that?” I wondered aloud, my voice echoing strangely in the otherwise silent room. “Is Jack actually in love with me? Why didn’t he tell me?”

I cast my mind back to the night we had spent together. If anyone asked, including Nicholas, I’d say I’d been too drunk to remember most of it. But the truth was… I hadn’t been drunk that night, just a little bit tipsy. And obviously a lot more confident, seeing as I was normally so shy. And another truth was – something I’d only ever confided to Liza – was that I could remember every single detail of that night.

When Nicholas and I had first got together he had obviously already read about the incident in the newspaper but I told him I had been too drunk to remember any details of my night with Jack, just to stop him from worrying. He and Jack weren’t really on good terms, they had been friends years ago, they’d even done a couple of duets together but then they’d had a massive falling-out.

I could tell that Nicholas was still ever so slightly upset about the fact that I’d actually slept with Jack, although I had done him no wrong in doing so as we (Nicholas and I) weren’t seeing each other at the time. I guessed it was just a male pride thing.

For about the thousand time that day, I moved my hand slowly onto my stomach. Again I could feel no physical difference. But it was as if I could somehow sense the baby was there – that it was inside my mind, reading my thoughts, crying out for help, a weak, helpless little thing that only wanted to be loved and taken care of.

I rolled over onto my side and stared out of the window into the night. It was pitch dark outside, but the streets had been lit and now cast an almost eerie orange glow over the street. Since we were so high up, all I could see was the building opposite, with only a few lights still on. But there was still a lot of snow on the rooftops. At least there was no longer snow falling from the sky; I had been worried about Nicholas coming home on those icy roads.

Suddenly the telephone on the bedside table rang out shrilly, making me jump. Tiredly, I picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hi, Courtney, is that you? It’s Liza.”

“Liza?” I suddenly felt much more awake. “Oh, hi, I was gonna call you tomorrow! How are you getting on?”

“Oh, I’m doing great – my paycheque came through today so I went out shopping this afternoon and got some new clothes. There have been seven letters for you since you left – I put them all on the mantelpiece so you can pick them up when you come home. I really miss you, though,” she added in a sad tone.

“I know, I miss you too,” I replied. “But I’m definitely coming back next week – Nicholas’s private jet is gonna take me back up on Thursday afternoon – he’s gonna stay with a friend in Edinburgh, but he’ll come along to visit me every day.”

“Awww, that’s sweet,” Liza beamed. “And also, your parents called this morning – they lost the number of the hotel so they asked me to pass on this message – they want to know if you can make it to their house on Christmas Day.”

“Oh yeah, that’s no problem – that’s three weeks away, I can arrange that. And you know what? You have no proper family to spend Christmas with this year – so why don’t you borrow mine?” I said, with a giggle.

“Really?” Liza gasped delightedly.

“Oh, of course! It’s the lest I can do for my very best friend – and I know my family would love to meet you, they’ve been really curious about it ever since I let you stay with me seven months ago. They know I was really excited about getting my own flat and having independence, so they were surprised when I said I had someone staying with me.”

“Yeah, I know, and I really, really do appreciate you taking me in, Courtney,” Liza said gratefully.

“Well, I couldn’t exactly let you stay where you were and suffer that awful mother of yours any more, now, could I?” I said, with a fond smile. “All right then, it’s settled – me and you can go along to my parent’s house on Christmas Day and have dinner with them – Nicholas will be spending Christmas Day with his kids, I know, but we’ll definitely see each other on Boxing Day.”

“That’s good then. I’m really looking forward to it,” Liza said, sounding overwhelmed with such lovely news. “By the way, um…” her voice suddenly turned slightly shifty, “There was an interview with Jack Ashton on the TV earlier, did you see that?”

“Yeah, I caught part. And of course, it just had to be the part where he mentioned me, coincidentally,” I muttered, pulling the warm, cosy duvet cover in more tightly around me.

“Oh yeah, I know – I only watched that interview because I’d read about it in the TV Guide and there was nothing good on – but he took a big risk by saying what he said. The media could’ve done some serious damage with that,” Liza said wisely.

“It’s done some serious damage to me too, I think,” I said weakly, glancing down at my stomach.

“Oh dear, I was afraid of that,” Liza said worriedly. “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay with this, Courtney? If you need me to be there for you I can get a train down there tomorrow.”

“No, it’s okay, really – I have Nicholas to look after me. I know he doesn’t know the whole truth about that night with Jack, but he can protect me from the media,” I mumbled. “But I will give you a call if I feel the need to talk about it, okay, Liza?”

“Sure, you call me anytime you want, Courtney – even if it’s three in the morning, I’ll be there, to help you through it. I promise you that,” Liza said reassuringly.

“Thanks, Liza,” I said gratefully, then I let out an enormous yawn. “Oh, I’m really tired – I suppose I’d better get to bed.”

“Yeah, okay. Try to keep your spirits up, Courtney – I’ll see you next Thursday, okay?” she said.

“Yeah, goodbye,” I said, and I put the phone down before she could say anything else. I now had a horrible guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach – Liza and I were such close friends, we normally shared absolutely everything – I couldn’t bear keeping secrets from her. Plus I really wasn’t coping well with this on my own – I really needed her support. If anyone could help me get through this difficult time, then it was her.

“Okay, I will do it, I will,” I said aloud to the silent room, just as more tiny snowflakes began to fall outside the window. “When I get back on Thursday, I’ll tell her.”