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2023-02-03 04:37:17Miranda POV
“What are you doing here? I thought you had the week off, “ I tell my boss, Nancy, as she walks into my office. I was really looking forward to having a week without anyone bothering me. I can get so much more done without the constant distraction of small talk and meetings that take forever when a simple conversation would suffice. It's just like the coffee mug Amanda got me last year for Christmas says, “This meeting could have been an email.”
Nancy is in her late forties and she's the type of woman who is fighting aging hard. She has her hair dyed an entirely too blonde color that doesn't match her features, and is always talking about which facial creams are reducing her wrinkles by adding collagen or Retin A or whatever new wonder chemical removes crows feet. Last year she swore by a cream that boasted they used human sperm in their secret anti-aging solution. Damn, Nancy, if you want sperm on your face I can think of a few easier ways to achieve that without spending fifty dollars an ounce. Like, let me introduce you to a few of my brother’s friends.
“Not off. I was supposed to travel for work but all travel got canceled due to the snow.” Nancy states in her condescending voice that screams basic bitch even more than her thick face foundation and blue eyeshadow. She might as well put a sticker on her head that reads “Live, Laugh, Love.”
“Oh. I'm sorry to hear that then,” quicky reminding myself not to sound snooty, “I know you were looking forward to that trip.”
“I was,” sighing loudly, “I was hoping to do some Christmas shopping while I was there.” Figures, that bitch loves Christmas.
“Well, I will just be here in my office working on syntax analysis this week if you need me for anything.” God, I hope she doesn't need me for anything.
“Sounds good,” she states as she closes the door.
I ended up working a little late today as I usually do so that no one can complain when I sneak out a bit early on friday afternoons. On my way home, I stopped by the post office to grab my mail and as I thumb through the usual bills, I noticed a handwritten letter from Pocahontas State Correctional Center. Joel Johnson. He wrote back!
I'm so interested to see what he has written. I'm torn between tearing the envelope open right here and reading it or waiting until I get home and can read it while I relax with a hot cup of tea. Oh who am I fooling? Beebs wont let me relax when I get home, she’ll want to be let outside then walked. After that, Amanda will call like every other night and it will be bedtime before I get another chance.
The top flap of the envelope is impossible to open. What do they seal it with? Super glue? I resort to tearing the seam, careful no to rip the letter inside and I finally meet my new pen pal.
Dear Miranda,
I trust that this finds you well and enjoying the holiday season. You do have me at a disadvantage because you know about me and I know so little about you. I would like to thank you for taking time to write and sharing a bit about your life with me.
First, I am glad that you read some stuff on me so please feel free to ask any questions you want of me, case-wise or otherwise. As for me being in here, sadly, chasing a woman and thinking I was in love and not wanting to lose that feeling, got me here. There are multiple truths to what happened...mine, hers, what happened, and what the police said happened. Don't get me wrong, I am far from a saint, but I am also not a complete monster.
No,I have never been to Alaska. As a matter of fact, I have never been out of this God-forsaken state except to visit disney world and sea world with my family when I was a young kid.
You sound extremely intelligent to be studying languages, but it sounds monotonous to me. Is it? Do you enjoy your work?
My “art” as you call it-I just slap some stuff up there and see if it works. If I am being honest. I took a lot of art classes while in high school and had a couple of pieces placed in an exhibition. I could be so much better but I do not like it, as I used to. I have recently been focussed on it more though, because it helps me get through some of the feelings that go along with being in here, I guess. It helps to have anything else to think about than the reality of my situation.
I got my GED and learned two trades since coming in. I have held various jobs and work out constantly. I used to like to tattoo and party on the weekends (yes, they party in here). But after waking up in the hole after being drunk a few times, I realized this wasn't for me and now I am just trying to lay low until I go up for parole. Plus, I don't like losing my visitation privileges.
Anyways, if you decide to write back, tell me more about yourself. If not, I understand but thank you for taking a moment for me. I hope you enjoy the holidays. For me, they are just another day.
Always,
Joel
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Finally Free: Book 1 Locked Up Lovers Series 45
Joel POV I could barely see straight, and my hands started shaking as I formed them into fists. I hadn't been this furious since that day everything had happened. "I shouldn't have to explain myself to you or anyone else! Especially not your nosy bitch friend,” I say, raising my voice. “It is supposed to be you and me against the world. That's what you fucking told me, and I guess I was stupid enough to believe you.” Miranda backed away from me and I could see a glimmer of fear in her eyes, and I immediately regretted my initial reaction. I never wanted her to be scared of me. I had never forgiven myself for what had happened. So, how could I ever expect her to understand or forgive me when I can't even forgive myself? I tried to bring it up to her a few times, but when I did, I only felt shame and guilt. Now here I was, scaring her and for what? Because her nosy best friend had filled her head with bullshit, and she read some damned articles that were only half truths? I rememb
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Joel POV I sat in my truck breathing deeply. It was about ten minutes before my appointment and I was collecting my thoughts. I knew without a doubt that this is what I wanted but it could very well backfire. I had requested this appointment to request an out of state pass, but I knew even without it, one way or another, I would be going to talk to Miranda. Yeah, I know it’s risky and such behavior may get me locked up again, but I can't say I care much anymore. I’ve tried to call a few times but she has not accepted my calls or returned my texts. I need to talk to her, to apologize and if she doesn't forgive me then I will move on. I at least deserve a chance to say my piece. I pulled down the sun visor and looked at the backside, where I kept the picture of Miranda clipped. I never told her that I kept her with me and I wasn't sure why. Maybe because It was cheesy but more likely because it was difficult for me to open up, to care for someone and allow them to care for me. I
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