I have news. I am with child.
It is yours. It can be no one else's. But, oh what to think? Is it a gift, Colby, a treasure you gave me in parting? Or is it a burden? It is both, I think, and it pained me greatly to admit it.
I have additional news. As you know, I am a pragmatic and practical girl, and I have decided to marry another man. I will not raise a child alone, and this man is a stolid and understanding one. He also has a limited understanding of womanly ways. He will raise your child as his own.
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I have attached a picture of him here, for some reason.
Interestingly, he has the same last name as you. I wonder if this was my subconscious longing for you.
Further news. I am angry with you. Even if you never read these words, I hope this letter angers you, Colby. I hope it humbles you. I hope you show some damned glimmer of emotion, like you showed me on the couch that summer that now seems so long ago.
But know that I will never stop loving you.