Secret Kept
How long can you keep a secret
Grace elegantly wrote her name at the bottom of the letter, twisting and swirling to make each letter. Satisfied everything looked as it should, she set her pen down and picked up the letter. Folding it, she placed it inside the envelope. The same elegant writing was scrolled across the front, pronouncing who it was for.
With hands shaking, she pushed the envelope closed and stared at her work. It was done. Fifty-seven years after the birth of her son, she finally wrote him the letter her husband had begged her to.
Grace grabbed her cane from beside the table and used it to help her up from the chair. The birds tweeted a lovely tune as the warm spring air drifted in through the open window. It was a beautiful day for a walk, and the post office wasn’t far.
She buttoned up her sweater, stuck the letter in her pocket, and headed out the door. Her steps were slow but steady, carrying her closer to her destination. Halfway to the post office, she stopped to take a break. Taking a breath of air was getting harder, and she needed to sit down for a minute.
The park was quiet this time of day, and Grace sat down on her favorite bench overlooking the small duck pond. A smile curved her lips at the memories that flooded her mind. This was where she had met her husband.
Brent had found her crying right here on this very bench. He was a sweet man, sitting beside her, making sure everything was all right. That was the day she found out she was pregnant with her son, James.
Two months later, Brent married her to save her from the shame of having a child outside of wedlock. They hadn’t loved each other at first, but love grew, and they spent fifty-five wonderful years together before death took him.
Grace tried to take a deep breath, but the effort made her chest hurt. She pulled the letter from her pocket and stared at it. James would be mad when he read it. He wouldn’t understand why she never told him Brent wasn’t his biological father. He wouldn’t understand the shame she felt.
A tear slipped down her cheek. She should have told him years ago like Brent wanted, but she didn’t want to see the hurt on his face. That’s why she was sending the news to him in a letter. She didn’t want to have to look him in the eye when he found out.
Tiredness slipped in on Grace, and she closed her eyes, soaking up the sun. The letter slipped from her fingers, fluttering downward to join the few leaves lying on the ground. Her chest tightened as she sucked in one last breath, then allowed the darkness to take her.
This story is inspired by a prompt from, Promptly Written. Thank you, Bella Smith ⭐ for the great prompt!