Recipe for Second Chances by Ali Rosen

Author:Ali Rosen [Rosen, Ali]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Romantic Comedy
ISBN: 9781662513701
Google: 5bCmzwEACAAJ
Publisher: Montlake
Published: 2023-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

SEPTEMBER 4, NINE YEARS AGO

Letter from Samuel to Stella:

Stella—

I’m really not that good of a writer (which can be a problem at times for a student whose primary function is writing essays), so please forgive me for anything clichéd or awkward.

First and most importantly—thank you for letting me throw you a little going away party and for eating bagels and lox for dinner since I needed to send you off in proper New York style and that seemed the most fitting. I know you’ll secretly wear that Yankees hat and will definitely not light it on fire as stated.

I asked you not to read this letter until you got on the plane because it’s not meant to pressure you in any way. I know how you feel (as we have established) and I do just want us to keep in touch. I hope you know you can always call me or reach out—or mutually send each other essays to edit, as you so brilliantly suggested to get us each out of our writing ruts.

But, I realized I had not really told you how I feel. I know I’ve sort of danced around it and I know you’ve kind of avoided having to actually talk about it. But it doesn’t feel right for you to not know and it also didn’t feel right to make you talk about something you clearly would get VERY uncomfortable having to watch me say out loud to your face (even though you are extremely adorable when you are uncomfortable. And oddly sexy—not sure what that’s about). But as such, it seemed like a letter was the best way.

So, here goes.

I love you.

And I am saying it because I have to. You make me happy from the top of my head all the way down to my toes. Talking to you for even one minute makes being with you seem like an undeniable inevitability. I love you and always will.

I don’t want you to change and that is not symbolic or a line. I know this might be hurtful for you to hear, either for what it is in itself or for the memories it brings back, and for that I’m sorry. I just could not imagine having you leave without telling you how I feel. I could not imagine you not knowing.

To be honest, my brain knows what you are going to say (or not say. I do love a brush-off from you and I can’t wait to get an email tomorrow asking how classes are going and whether I ate some slog in the cafeteria, or something equally breezy). I knew where you stood and where you stand, you’ve told me before. But my heart told me that if somehow, someway, I could bear telling you how I actually feel, I might be able to reach past your disbelief of me (and, as I’m mostly hopeful this is not a me-specific issue, men generally), even if only for a second.

I’m going to take

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