Page 218 of Homewrecker

“No.”

Sydnee turned. “Blair.”

“Nope.” I shook my head. “Put that shit back.”

“You recognize it?”

“Yes.”

The envelope was pale pink. I’d decorated the front with little black flowers because apparently even during a mental breakdown, I had cared about presentation. I remembered sealing it. I remembered sitting right where I was and handing it to her. I remembered telling her I never wanted to see it again.

“You kept that?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Well, I’m asking you to burn it now.”

She sat back down. “No.”

“Why the hell did I write that?”

“You were having difficulty verbalizing how you felt.”

Sydnee opened the envelope.

I sat up. “Don’t read that.”

“Why?”

“Because…”

“You wrote it.”

“That was Depressed Blair.”

Sydnee laughed. “That’s not how this works.”

She pulled out the folded pages. The paper looked older than I remembered.

It was wrinkled and there were spots where the ink had bled, probably from tears. I remembered that night. The way I could sit for hours staring at nothing because getting up required energy I didn’t have.

Sydnee looked at me. “Do you trust me?”

I swallowed. “Yes.”

“Then let me read it.”

I wiped my palms against my pants. She unfolded the paper and started.

Blair,

I don’t know what to say to you because I don’t know who you are anymore.

My eyes closed. Fuck.

You’re stupid.

Sydnee paused and I opened one eye. “Very therapeutic opening.”