Seline,

I've started this letter four times. I keep stopping because I don't know what I'm allowed to say, and then I remember that nobody is going to read this except you, so I suppose I can say whatever I like.

You asked me last week if I was alright. I said yes. Now that I've had enough time to think about it, I know I was lying to you.

I want you to know that the meeting on Thursday matters. I know you've been cautious, and you're right to be cautious, and I'm sorry that I haven't always made that easy. But what you've been giving me is important. More important than they told me when I took the job. I think you know that already. I think that's why you've been frightened.

Come on Thursday. Come and we'll talk properly, not the way we have to talk at the club. I'll tell you what I know. It isn't much, but it's more than nothing, and you deserve more than nothing.

After that, I don't know. I've been thinking about the conversation we had in the car, the one where you asked what happens when it's over. I didn't answer you then. I still don't have a good answer. But I've been thinking about it.

The dogs were barking again this morning. All of them, all at once, like they heard something. I looked out the window and there was nothing there. Just the street.

Thursday. You know I ████████████████████. Always.

Neil