Dear Desperate Wife,

Communication is a two way street. Your husband may say he loves you, but if you have been married for twenty years, maybe, a change of routine or even scenery might help. Sit and talk with him, ask him if he would like something different or new in the marriage. It could be as little as doing a date night. It could be something dramatic as a permanent change or even something different in the bedroom. Don't forget that your husband may have something he isn't comfortable telling you yet. Give him time and don't press the matter once you both have come to that point in the topic of conversation.

All the best, R.

I proof read the article again. It will have to do, I've got a deadline and this was the last letter. I felt that Desperate Wife was feeling insecure about herself and her husband.

That's why I got in to this line of work. I feel I handle people better through letters instead of face to face.

I don't know how to explain it, but I can feel their need of closure, reassurance, sometimes even their fear or pain when I read their letters.

I emailed the draft copy to my editor, Jan. I hope she gets back to me soon, I need to go within the hour. I have to pick up my son from daycare soon. I always work late on Mondays and I like to have my final draft in before five on Monday evenings.

The magazine I work for, Soul, gets published every Wednesday and everything needs to be in on Monday for the editors.

Jan rang me than, I saw her office number come up on my office phone.

"Jan. Did you like the article?" I asked as I slowly packed up.

"That last one was a bit.... Distant." She replied to me. Jan was a nice lady, when you are on her good side.

I get it, she meant cold. "Sorry. But the letter was quite vague. I couldn't work with it if there was minimal info." I answered her as I wrapped my finger around the phone cord.

"Then why answer that letter? You get hundreds posted to you every week."

I don't know why I answered that one. "Let's just say, it called out to me." I rolled my eyes.

"Well, you don't have time to do another. It will do. But the next article, bring it up a notch."

"Yes. Of course." I hung up and sighed.

How can I bring it up a notch? I felt the pain in that letter more than I ever wanted. I sat back in my chair and closed my eyes. I know exactly what Desperate Wife was asking. How can I simply be so blunt? That's not exactly in my nature. I can't be rude to someone I've never met personally.

I can't write, your husband is suspicious of you because that was what I read between the lines.

It doesn't matter if the wife did anything wrong of not. Sometimes jealousy and suspicion are confused, sometimes they aren't.

Flashback

"To love and to hold, till death do us part." Rhea smiled lovingly at the man holding her.

Ryder grinned at his now wife and before the priest could say you may now kiss the bride, Ryder took his wife, his lips on hers.

When they pulled apart, Ryder was smirking and Rhea blushed as she stared at everyone that just saw them become one.

They hurried down the aisle and outside the small church to the waiting limousine.

It was the happiest day of Rhea's life. She found someone that loves her for her, someone that cherishes her. Rhea's grip hardened in her new husbands hand as they giggled to each other in the back of the stretched car.

"I love you." Rhea whispered to Ryder.

"I'm glad." He joked as Rhea playfully smacked him, letting out an awful imitation of a gasp before laughing. "I love you too. I told you I'll marry you."

"You always keep your promises." Rhea smiled as she rested her head on his chest.

"I promised I will love you, no matter what, for all eternity. If I lose sight of that, I just have to look at you to remember." Ryder slid an arm around Rhea's shoulders, holding her to him.

"Do you promise?"

Ryder kissed the top of his black haired bride. "I promise." He whispered in her hair.

Now

The alarm on my phone started going off, reminding me about my son, Rowan.

"Crap!" I quickly got up and snatched my bag, locking my little office behind me. I said farewell to some colleagues as I raced out off the building to my car, unlocking it and getting in.

I had thirty minutes till the daycare centre closed and if I'm late, I get charged criminal amounts of money for a late pick up fee.

I made it with ten minutes to spare and raced to Rowan, who was sitting at the table playing with the blocks.

"Momma!" He smiled as he got up and rushed over to me. I dropped to my knees and opened my arms as I welcomed my black haired little boy.

"Hey, baby. Are you ready to go home?" I asked him as I took his hand. His head nodded up and down, his hair flopping everywhere. I picked up his little paw patrol backpack and slung it on to my back.

Walking out of the centre, I buckled Rowan into his car seat and drove home.

Thankfully I made a huge dinner last night, as I tend to do on Sunday's, so all I have to do is reheat it for dinner tonight.

After feeding and bathing Rowan, we made ourselves comfy on his bed as I read him a book. He slowly went to sleep, as I lulled out the words in the book. I let Rowan stay against me as I brushed his hair with my fingers. It was getting long again, the ends curling. My little man, nearly three. It's just been him and me for a while now.

I smiled as I kissed him gently on his head before sliding off the bed, tucking him in completely. My body screamed for a shower, my only escape when Rowan is asleep and I can forget the reality I live in.

A single mum. Working. Alone.

****

I woke up with a gasp, a thin layer of sweat on me. The summer months are coming. I felt myself burn up even though I had the fan blowing on me.

I sighed as I rolled over. The same dream, over and over. I don't get it every night, but just enough some nights to have difficulty going back to sleep.

It always start out with me meeting Ryder. Every time. In a book shop. I needed to get a book I had on order for class, it was the only bookshop that sold it. But when I asked for it and pay for it, they couldn't find it. I was distraught, I needed it for my finals which were only four weeks away.

Ryder noticed how stressed I was, freaking out because they told me it would take three to four weeks for another copy to come in. I wouldn't have enough time to study if I had to wait any longer.

Ryder told me he had a copy I could have and usually I would turn the offer down, but I was desperate. I could only study so much via a study group and my friends would need their copies.

Then as always, the next thing is we were on a blanket, having a picnic in an open paddock, under a giant jacaranda tree.

Every time I have this dream, it gets shorter and shorter. I no longer dream of him there at my graduation, or him proposing. I no longer even dream of us getting married.

I stretched out my arm and felt Rowan next to me. As usual, he creeps in through the night and sleeps next to me.

I don't mind. I snuggle in to him, smelling his hair as I close my eyes. I won't let the sadness take me over any more. I have to be strong. It's okay to cry every now and then, but I still need to be strong.

For Rowan.

****

Flashback

"It's beautiful." Rhea gasped as Ryder pulled out the diamond ring. "It's so big!"

Ryder laughed. "Anything for you, baby." He said as Rhea took the ring out off its box. "So, what do you say?"

Rhea slipped the ring on to her finger and smiled. "Of course I will!" She kissed Ryder. "Yes!"

Ryder held Rhea against him as they laid naked and entwined in the blankets of Ryder's bed.

"I love you so much!" Rhea whispered as she held Ryder to her.

"You better start planning it all then, the sooner we get married the better." He growled in to her ear, making Rhea shiver.

"Why so quick?"

"Because I want you all to myself as soon as possible."

Rhea sighed in contentment. "I guess so." She said before shifting her position, sitting up in the bed. "But I haven't even got a job yet."

Ryder propped himself up on to his elbow. "So? You don't need to work. I can provide for both of us."

Rhea arched her eyebrow. It was a conversation she knew they would have sooner or later. "Ryder, I graduated five months ago. I feel like a failure. I have a Bachelor in Psychology and what's the point of studying for it if I'm not going to use it?" Rhea asked as she swept some hair to behind her ear.

Ryder sighed. "I suppose. If it helps keep you busy. I don't want you to be stressed if we can avoid it."

"I don't want to be a wife that stays at home bored until she discovers the wine bottle." Rhea grinned as she tapped the tip of Ryder's nose.

Ryder let out a hearty laugh.

"See, you get me." Rhea slid her cheek up against Ryder's bare chest as his arms wrapped around her.

"Yeah." He agreed. "I get you. I've got you."

"Every bit that's good and bad." Rhea agreed.

"Forever and ever."

Now

I rotated my neck until I heard the small cracks, releasing some pressure. I've been staring at this screen for an hour. I've already started for next week's edition and the third letter has thrown me off a bit.

My usual clientele are women. Not males. I could feel his pain in the words, like I could almost hear the tone he used. Three times now I started typing away when I deleted it and started again.

My glasses pinched on my nose as I tried to think.

Dear Mr Guilty

When a woman has been scorned by accusations that proved to be false, a truth she always knew but you couldn't see, she is buried in so much pain. Her emotions run in overdrive as she tries to pin point exactly where she went wrong, even if she did no wrong. There is no best way to apologise, I can't say buy her flowers and make up, because it's so much more deeper than that. Start small, let her know you know, let her know how you feel, say I'm sorry. Slowly come back into her life if she allows you, if she doesn't, unfortunately, she has moved on. Make up for your mistakes as much as you can earn up to them. Prove to her that you are sorry and you are serious. But don't forget, that wound you created in her is so deep, no matter how much time has passed, it has a high chance of being open still. Even if she doesn't want to return to her relationship, the least you can do is help her in healing that wound. Help her move on. You both need that.

Good luck, R.

I saved the document and sat back. He should feel guilty, but I can't write you're a jackass, you let paranoia take over with your possessiveness and jealousy and believed hearsay without talking to her.

This is why some days I don't like my job. Some of these letters, they feel personal. As if they were directed not for me but to me.