The Beautifly Effect

Chapter Twelve -- Impact

Misty switched off the television set after seeing Ash lose his match.

First Richie, then Ash. And it was her fault. On top of that, the guy she loved hated her, the guy that loved her she had hurt, and she was pregnant.

Her nausea had settled for the day, but the doctor told her to keep up her fluids. Stepping to the sink, she noticed a white envelope had been pushed under the door.

Her immediate reaction was trepidation. If it was a message bearing good news, that would be fine. But it if bore ill, how could she cope with anything more?

Bracing herself, she picked it up. "Misty" was written in neat, cursive letters on the front. She flipped it over. It was inscribed "Richie" in the same but slightly smaller handwriting on the flap.

She'd gone this far--she might as well read what was inside. She opened the envelope and unfolded the enclosed letter.

Dear Misty,

    This must be a very hard time for you. I sincerly hope you and Ash work things out and that you'll be happy together. So as not to burden you even more, I'll try to keep this letter short.

    Misty, I can forgive you for rejecting me after leading me on. I unerstand you were upset and confused.

    My career has taken a setback. My relationship with one of my best friends has been ruined. I can forgive you for those things too.

    At the moment I can't bring myself to forgive you for one thing: for not allowing me to be a father to my first child. Maybe one day I'll be able to, but for now I can't.

    I've decided to leave, to make a fresh start somewhere else. Maybe one day I'll make contact again, but for now it's goodbye.

                                                    Richie

"Oh Richie, I'm sorry."

The letter fell out of her hands as she ran out the door. She had to find him before he left, tell him how sorry she was.

She had to hurry before he left. The streets were crowded. She'd get there faster if she went around the back of the shops.

She pictured Richie's face. So kind, so caring, so understanding in spite of what she had done. Then images of that night flashed through her mind. His muscled chest, his warm lips in contact with hers, the comfort and pleasure drowing out her sorrow, making her think that it was right. But it was wrong. How can she make up for it? She had to talk to him, had to make amends, had to work it out--

Confused as she was, she never saw the truck coming. The world simply vanished from her awareness. She didn't feel any pain until she regained consciousness in a hospital bed.