The letter undelivered

A dreary apartment with its gate lights off, resounded with loud siren wails. Blinking red and blue lights streaked the quiet walls leaving dark gaps of terror and mystery. A cold and lifeless body got carried away in an ambulance. The police labelled it a suicide. The cause of the man’s death wasn’t as loud as his dying. After working through piles of records, the police figured out a part of his history. It was discovered that he was once married to a Martha, and it was also obvious that there was nobody else in the house. They called the lady for investigation.  

Martha entered holding the hand of a young Darla of thirteen. She sat for the interrogation with a bland face and answered the questions without pulling a single facial muscle. When questioned whether she knew Mason, the man who had committed suicide, she replied with a very stoic yes. She said, “Yes. I know the man you’re talking about.”. She paused. “He was once the love of my life and the man I wrestled with the odds to get married to. But now, he is nothing to me. It’s been 13 years since the days turned dark and nights grew colder. He walked out the door one autumn evening, as I stood there begging him not to. I was fully pregnant. That night my unborn daughter and I felt the deepest cut of betrayal”, she poured the words out stricken by the need to establish a disconnect. 

“Is that all? Do you have anything more to say?”, asked the interrogator.  

“That’s it.”, she replied flatly. 

“Thank you, ma’am, …” 

“He wrote me letters every month – every month of the past thirteen years. I go through the meaningless letters and feel more distant and fostered boundless hatred for this man whom I loved the most. The letters full of fake words, though inked from top to bottom, looked more void than a blank piece of paper. I didn’t know what to do with them. Something in me, the remnants of my love for him, I guess, kept me from burning them. So, I put them all in a box and hid them under my bed.”, she spurted out.  

Darla, who was beside her mother, listening to the whole conversation, burst out in tears. She hesitantly started, “He was dead! Every time I asked my mom about my father, she said HE WAS DEAD! He had always been dead to me, until one day, the lines blurred.” 

“I was playing hide-and-seek with my little cousin. She hid under the bed, and I did find her. When she tried to crawl out of her hiding spot, she accidentally kicked a box open, and on the floor, were a huge pile of crushed papers. I was surprised and I sent my cousin to watch tv and I read through the papers. I could understand that they were letters from a man who loved my mom. But I refused to assume it was my father. I thought mom never lied.” 

“Now that I have had a glimpse of the past, I’m still unable to wrap my head around the fact that the letters were love confessions and apologies. But why didn’t papa ever tell mom why he left??” 

Suddenly, a man stepped into the room, uninvited. He was nervous but had the eyes of purpose.  

“Mr. Hughes! What brings you here?!”, exclaimed Martha. 

“Do you know this man?”, asked the interrogator with a face marked with confusion. 

“I have a role to play in this. I have held a secret for too long and it is eating me up. I’m unable to sleep at night and I feel guilty.”, said the man in sharp words. 

“Mason was a good neighbour and a childhood friend. Since the day he moved in with Martha, I had deep admiration for her beauty. I heard the news that Mason had left Martha and that she is struggling. I came forward to help her. I got close to her, and I felt like I had achieved one thing in my life that I hoped for. Days passed and a month later, a postman stuffed an envelope in my empty-for-ages mailbox. Excited, I opened the letter and to my shock, saw that it was a letter from Mason addressing Martha. The letter got delivered to my address, by mistake. I hid the letter for my selfish desire of staying close to Martha. Now, looking at the grave turn that the situation has taken, I felt the urge to disclose this concealed truth.” 

He slowly unfolded a yellowed paper, and began to read: 

“Dearest Martha, 

I know I'm gone, and I no longer deserve a place in your family. But trust me, I walked away not because I stopped loving you but because I loved you too much to harm you. My mind became slippery and my thoughts, demonic. Nightmares consumed my sleep and rage, and paranoia became my wake companions. I started losing my mind and I was going insane. My mind played tricks on me and my depression haunted me. I was going crazy, and I didn't know what to do. The thought of me being a harm to you and the baby on the way terrified me. That thought ate me up alive and I could feel my heart being ripped and grinded between the demon's jaws.  

Please, believe me when I say leaving you was the hardest thing I had to do. I died a bit inside that evening, but my love for you made me leave. If there comes a life where I am well and sane, I promise to find my way back to you and shower you with all the love you deserve.  

With love and a slipping mind, 

Yours, 

Mason.” 

Tears welled up in Martha's eyes. Her face was pale with pain and guilt. She didn't speak a word. She got up from her chair, walked to Mr. Hughes and took the almost-falling-apart letter in her hands. He ran her fingers gently through the words. As she traced the impression, she could feel Mason's touch and his love. 

Remorse and regret hit her all at once. The anger that she let mount in her heart crumbled under the weight of truth. As Martha shook with overwhelm, Darla whispered, "He never stopped loving us." 

"I committed the worst sin of all, and I'm now bound to live with this guilt killing me every day for the rest of my life. I sincerely seek your pardon Martha", said Mr. Hughes in a low voice and a gaze fixed on the floor. 

Martha didn't say a word. Maybe because she was heavy with guilt, herself. She stared at the letter for a while. With a face packed with emotions of grief, regret and shock and for the first time, she spoke under her breath, "I'm sorry too".