that initial information from the investigator. I don’t know if she has contacted you directly, but the investigator can get her info for you if you would like to contact her. I’ll send you an email with his contact information, as well as the contact info for Ed and Elaine Thompson. They really want to meet you, Allison and I hope you can make that happen for them. Don’t blame them for my mistakes.
I can only hope at this point that you don’t hate me, but you’ll never hear me say that I regret even one second of being with you. I’ll understand if you can’t, but if you ever find it in your heart to forgive me—that would mean the world to me—you mean the world to me.
Cedric
P.S. Hopefully you noticed that there is something else in this envelope.
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What? I grabbed the yellow envelope that the letter was contained in and reached into the bottom. Inside, was a small Ziploc bag and as I took the note out of it, a ring fell out. What the—?
It was a beautiful antique looking white gold or silver ring with a green stone.
The design was really ornate and stunning.
What was this about? I unfolded the note that read:
Allison, I bought this ring at an antique fair right after I first laid eyes on you.
It reminded me so much of the color of your eyes…the stone even has the same gold speckles. I just had to get it. It was a family heirloom of the old lady that sold it to me.
She made me promise to give it to someonespecial. I knew even then I’d give it to yousomeday. Even though I know I have lostmy chance with you, I still want you to have 563/727
it because it belongs to you. Please let it remind you always how special you are.
The ring fit perfectly on my right ring finger. A tear fell down my cheek as I wiggled my hand to catch the reflection of the light in the stone. It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever given me.
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CHAPTER 33
CEDRIC
Five Months Later
We were by the ocean in West Palm Beach. Allison was straddling me on the sand, her big beautiful green eyes shining in the sunlight. Callie ran by and poured water out of a bucket all over us and we laughed hysterically, both getting up and chasing after Callie toward the shoreline. Allison, Callie and I fell to the ground in the water still laughing uncontrollably. We were distracted when all of a sudden a gargantuan wave approached, but Allison was facing me and didn’t see it coming. The wave pushed Callie and I to shore, but Allison was gone. “Allison!”
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“Allison!”
“Cedric? Cedric! Wake up!” Stephanie yelled, shaking my shoulders.
My eyes blinked repeatedly and my heart pounded. “Wha—Stephanie?”
“You were having a nightmare. Who’s Allison?” she asked.
“Huh?” I said, intentionally avoiding the question.
“Who’s Allison? You were yelling for Allison,” she repeated.
“Oh. Yeah. No one. I don’t know. It’s okay. Go back to bed.”
Good answer, asshole.
Stephanie sighed and rolled over, but I could tell she was still awake. God, I hope my sleep talk wasn’t too dramatic. I dream a lot about Allison, but this was the first time I had done it in front of someone.
Stephanie and I have been dating over a month now. She is a lawyer at a firm down-town and we met in the Boston Common 567/727
during our respective lunch breaks. I had been mulling over life on a bench when she sat down beside me with her Au Bon Pain salad. We shared stories about our jobs and watched together as kids ran around in the frog pond. We ended up meeting for dinner that night and have been casually dating ever since.
I have been forcing myself to move on.
She started sleeping over a couple of nights ago. We hadn’t had sex yet, mostly because I haven’t crossed that line. I am pretty sure she is ready and willing. Actually, I know that for a fact being that she literally tried to get into my boxers last night, but I haven’t wanted to go there for some reason.
For some reason…who am I kidding?
I know why.
Stephanie is beautiful, Filipino, with nice skin, a pretty smile, a great personality and she is smarter than probably anyone I 568/727
know. It’s not that I am not attracted to her.
I just…I don’t know.
Stephanie was making waffles in my kitchen when I strolled out of bed.
“Good morning, dreamy.”
“Mornin’.”
“That dream must have been intense.
You were shaking, Cedric.”
“Was I?”
Drop the subject. Drop the subject.
Drop the subject.
“Yeah. I am glad I woke you up.”
“Me too.”
Another lie. I would take being withAllison any way I could, even in the form ofa bizarre dream.
“What did you want to do today?” It was Labor Day. I knew my mother was having a cookout, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go over there. Stephanie and I were supposed to be hanging out too and I 569/727
would probably have to bring her. I wasn’t really ready to introduce her to my mother.
“What did you have in mind?” Just as I spoke those words, my phone rang and I answered it.
“Hello.”
“Sup, shitface.”
“Wassup, Caleb.”
“You better get your ass down to Mom’s today or she is gonna roast more than that pig.”
“You and Denise going?”
“Of course, you think we could get away with not going to Ma’s cookout? Although I think Denise is gonna throw up when she smells the pig…her senses have been in overload this pregnancy.”
“Who else is gonna be there?”
“Just Callie, Maria, Kurt and maybe Bruno, I think…the usual crew.”
“Okay, we’ll probably show up for a bit.”
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“We?” he asked curiously.
I walked into the bedroom so Stephanie couldn’t hear everything I was saying.
“I told you about Stephanie,” I whispered in a barely audible voice.
“Yeah, you did. But you didn’t sound too enthusiastic…so I just assumed—”
“She’s cool,” I whispered.
“Cool…but not—”
“Yeah, yeah…I know what you’re gonna say.”
“You do?”
“I fucking dreamt about her last night…out loud. I fucking wake up to Stephanie asking me who fuck Allison is.
How fucked up is that?
“Pretty fucked up.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it’s good you’re trying to move on. I mean you still haven’t heard from her right?”
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“Not a thing. I still don’t even know where she is.”
“Hmmm.”
“Gotta go…I’ll see you later,” I said and hung up the phone.
I waited before going back into the kitchen, sitting on the bed, staring out the window. It was a beautiful cool sunny day where you couldn’t distinguish whether it was late summer or early fall in Boston.
The last time I had seen Allison was the day I gave her the letter five months ago.
She looked like an angel that day, wearing a pink dress, her hair blowing in the wind, her cheeks pink from the shock of seeing me sitting on her front steps. Late that same night, I got a text from her.