Shaking hands pulled open the cherry wood drawer that held the letter. Beneath a notebook, loose scraps of paper and office supplies sat the lavender envelope, once sealed neatly with a golden wax stamp. It had only ever been read once, time and the weight of various office objects resealing the wax like it had never been read in the first place. She hadn’t told her fiancé about the letter, almost entirely sure that the note was complete garbage, the penned out ramblings of an old man, but she couldn’t bear the thought of Jordan’s mocking tone.

  Slowly and quietly, as to not draw attention to herself, Aspen peeled open the envelope, the unsealed wax giving way to the paper contents. Pausing a moment to consider her options, to decide if rereading the letter of an elderly, possibly delusional man was a good idea. A man who had abandoned everything he knew to live on what was believed to be a commune, a man who had cut off contact with the rest of his family. Aspen drew a deep breath, before deciding that it was only a letter, and nothing bad could come of simply reading it.

  My dearest granddaughter,

  I am writing you this letter to apologize, to let you know that my leaving was a choice made of sound mind and careful consideration. The time for me to leave has come, and the opportunity has presented itself.

  Perhaps this note will sound rushed, random - maybe deluded, but you must know somewhere deep down that people like us will never be happy in places like that. Florida, obviously. Maybe even normal society as a whole. I don’t know.

  Look, there comes a time when we all must move on in our lives, but please read my words carefully right now. You will never be happy there. You will search for contentment in the arms of polite society. Maybe you’ll have a good job, a harmless boyfriend, maybe even a new family. But you and I both know that you will always be searching for “enough” and you won’t find it there.

  When you decide to make the best of your life, come find me.

  42 Clover Lane, Timbersnake Falls, VT, 05824.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  I’ll be waiting.

  Best,

  Grandpa

  The words gripped Aspen’s heart with claws, a sense of guilt flooding her body. She wondered for the first time if her grandfather was still alive. What kind of granddaughter left her crazy grandfather alone like this? What if the letter was a cry for help? Adrenaline flooded her body as she stuffed the note in her pocket, the envelope drifting lazily to the floor.

  The decision tugged both sides of her heart. Marrying Jordan was a great decision, she would be safe, comfortable, and able to focus on her life’s passions rather than continuing to struggle for every cent. He wasn’t a great partner, but he was never mean to her and he had family money that could send her to every destination she had ever dreamed of. On the other hand, she had missed her grandfather. A real artist and botanist, some of her fondest memories had been with the man. She could recall finger painting outside with her grandparents, splashes and strides of red and green paint decorating her overalls. The activity was followed by a scolding from her mother, but eight year old Aspen couldn’t help but smile.

  “Do you know how much these overalls cost me? When you buy your own clothes, you can ruin them.” Her mother scolded.

  She hadn’t much cared for the arts, but the passion Aspen held was matched only by her grandfather. Maybe he was crazy, just like her mother had suggested, but maybe he was just an artist. Maybe he was just a sensitive soul who understood the value in making a good mess. Aspen remembered learning to care for plants in the makeshift greenhouse behind her grandfather’s small property. She remembered the feel of the dirt, the tiny insects crawling around, the way the water droplets dripped down leaves and stems in the morning. She closed her eyes, and for a moment, she could smell the warm, damp soil, and she felt safe.

  Determination set, Aspen strode to the hall closet, withdrawing her old beat-up backpack. With a steady pace, she took it to the laundry room and stuffed what little she could from the selection in the dryer. Then, she threw her crappy old laptop in with the chargers for it and her phone. Her wallet and keys were already in the backpack, and with the addition of her hairbrush, toothbrush and toothpaste, she was on her way. Standing the threshold she felt a sense of relief, but also another wave of guilt.

  Sneaking out in the middle of the night? Jordan deserved a little better than this, but she wasn’t going to wake him up, knowing he was still drunk and groggy. She scribbled a note on a scrap of paper and left it on the dining room table under a small potted aloe plant.

  Jordan

  I can’t take this anymore, we aren’t compatible. I think you know that as well as I do. A marriage of convenience is not right for me, so I’m leaving. Feel free to keep anything I’ve left behind. Take care of yourself,

  Aspen

  Perhaps she was being cowardly, but it wasn’t going to stop her from leaving. The relief she had felt when she allowed herself to remember the best of her childhood was a high she’d continue to chase, for as long as she could. Having no contact with her grandfather, she could only hope that he was still alive, healthy and able to hold her hand as she navigated her new reality.

  With a final look in the lavish St. Augustine home, Aspen said goodbye to her dreams of luxury. She said goodbye to everything she had known, in search of something better.