Chapter 9 - The Final Chapter Of Ryan’s Story
I didn’t think about Ryan much anymore. He was a ghost from my past, a lesson learned. But last month, I got a letter in the mail from him. It was postmarked from Houston, where he’d moved after getting out of jail.
I almost threw it away without opening it. But something made me tear the envelope open.
The letter was short, written in his messy handwriting:
Emily,
I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I needed to say I’m sorry. I was wrong. About everything. I was selfish, entitled, and cruel. I took you and everything you built for granted. I ruined my life, and I almost ruined yours.
I got out of jail three months ago. I’m working two jobs, trying to pay back the money I owe you. My family doesn’t talk to me anymore. I have no one to blame but myself.
I saw your speech at the tech summit. I saw the work you’re doing with the nonprofit. You’re doing amazing things. You always were. I was too stupid to see it.
I won’t contact you again. I just wanted you to know I’m sorry. I hope you’re happy.
Ryan
May you like
I read the letter twice, then put it in a drawer and forgot about it. I didn’t feel anger, or sadness, or even satisfaction. I just felt nothing. Ryan’s apology didn’t matter. My happiness didn’t depend on him or his regret. It depended on me, on the life I’d built, on the people I loved.
A week later, I got a check in the mail from him: $500, the first payment toward the money he owed me. I signed it over to Her Home, Her Future. It felt like the right thing to do.
