Love Letter Lost

CONTENTS Trigger Warning Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Epilogue Connect with Hillary Slaughter Acknowledgments About the Author Love Letter Lost is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the copyright owner except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Cover Design and Paperback Format by Raneé Clark at Sweetly Us Book Services © 2023 Copyright 2023 by Hillary Slaughter To Mom and Dad. Thank you for helping me chase this crazy dream. Love you! TRIGGER WARNING This work of fiction speaks vaguely of past verbal and physical abuse that does not occur on the page. CHAPTER ONE My fingers fumbled as I secured the door lock, then the dead bolt. The rattling sound of the chain sliding into place brought an odd sense of satisfaction and relief as I sank onto the floor, my back against the door. I shook my head as my escape registered. A brown ball of fur shoved her face into mine, forcing me to laugh as I attempted to push away the wet, persistent tongue. “No, Ruby. Just because I wouldn’t let Bruce kiss me, doesn’t mean you get the honor.” After a few more attempts, the dog took the hint and curled up in my lap, accepting chin scratches instead. “I’m guessing the date didn’t go well.” I looked up to see Audrey, Ruby’s owner and one of my roommates, watching me from the hallway that led to her bedroom. Her long black hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun I wished I could copy. That combined with her workout clothes meant I was probably preventing her from attending yoga at the rec center. But I was not opening that door for at least another twenty minutes. Bruce could have followed me from the car, ready to claim his post-date hug. Or worse, a kiss. “Why do I always attract the weirdos?” I groaned. “What happened this time?” “It started with—” “Wait,” Chloe, my other roommate, called from her bedroom. She surfaced from the opposite end of the hall a few minutes later, her pixie-cut brown hair sticking up in disorganized spikes that somehow made the hairstyle cuter. “Mallory, you can’t start the post-date retelling without me. Just let me save my assignment.” As Chloe disappeared back down the hall, I nudged Ruby from my lap and stood. “I do not envy her taking college classes,” I said. Audrey shrugged. “At least Chloe’s set to graduate within a reasonable amount of time. It took me several years longer than planned to get my degree.” “Can we skip the detailed date recap and go straight to the ice cream?” I asked as I followed Audrey to one of the worn blue-plaid couches I’d gotten second-hand from my parents. Despite the couches having been in our apartment for over a year, they still smelled of my parents’ basement: wood polish and Febreze, two scents that followed us no matter how many times we moved. “Nice try, Mal. But if we’re going to truly commiserate, we need all the details.” Chloe appeared a few minutes later and sat on the loveseat diagonally from Audrey and me. Ruby hopped onto the couch next to Audrey and settled on her lap. “Okay, spill. And I mean all the details. If there was hand-holding, I want to know.” Chloe leaned forward, elbows on knees, her chin resting in her hands. Chloe’s petite size and eager expression reminded me of my fifth graders, causing a twinge of sadness as I remembered today had been the last day of school. Not only had I had to say goodbye to my students today, but now I had the memory of yet another disastrous date to grapple with. “The short version: it started with his over-inflated ego and ended with me running from the car. There was no hand-holding, thank goodness.” Audrey nodded in sympathy. “Dang! I hoped this one wouldn’t end up on your List. What’s the long version?” I sighed, slouching deeper into the couch. “Let’s see…I maybe said two words during the drive to the bowling alley. He was too busy telling me about how he was up for another promotion and that his video game scores were at an all-time high. He complained about all the bowling alley balls, claiming they were inferior. He had to catalog each shortcoming for me, explaining how they paled in comparison to the one he owns.” “Then why didn’t he bring his?” Chloe asked, a question I’d posed to Bruce after his continued complaints. “It was in storage and too hard to get at for anything short of a play-off game. On the plus side, Bruce is good at bowling. In fact, he promised that if I got my priorities straight, I could be good at bowling someday too. Of course, if it means I have to compete with Bruce’s trash-talking ability, I’ll pass.” “Please tell me dinner afterwards was better,” Chloe said. “Not really. Bruce spent the entirety of dinner yelling at a tennis match on TV. I started to worry we’d be asked to leave. He got very…heated.” My roommates blinked at me in silence. As I looked between the two, a sign I’d placed on the entertainment center caught my attention: Count Your Blessings. While intended as a decoration for