Letters to Kelsey

It had to have been about three months since I’ve actually opened another letter that Noah wrote and I surely wasn’t ready to open another, not yet anyways. I figured that I continue to take my time with reading them all and if I would feel anxious, the box would still be open just so I could read them. Frank had also been coming over to keep company and make reinforcements for me to not drink any more wine. I grew even closer to him and he grew even closer to me. I’ve been also trying to be as artistic and rich as Noah was; a philosipher at heart. Frank has been coming along to help me paint or I’d teach him something that I learned from Noah years ago. It was actually quite interesting and Frank seemed marveled by the techniques, vigiorously moving the painbrush into a solid white with another color. I admired his patience and his courage to become an artist with me.
Frank would come over bright and early in the morning every other day when I wasn’t about with the family, and he would simply be amazed by the progress I’ve been making. I was proud of myself too.

“Is this your lastest piece?” Frank asked as he fiddled through supplies in the dinning room that I sat out and pulled out an old canvas. It was portriat of me, laying on the bed with barely anything on, but a sheet covering my brest and thighs. It was one of Noah’s best masterpiece and it was something that always, still grab me by surprise. I remember when Noah had finished it, he whispred in French, votre belle. It was one of the sweetest things and it always gave me chills after he’d say it. Frank was still staring at me, waiting for an answer as he held the painting below his nose.

“Uh, no. No Frank, it’s not. Noah had done that a while ago.” I finally answered him, clearing my throat as I did so. “We were stupid teenagers, alright?”

“But it’s so beautiful though, Kelsey.” Frank said, profoundly as he admired Noah’s work. “He really captured all of your features and your beautiful eyes. Wow, he was such a great man.”

I felt a gentle, uplifting smile adjusting my face and warmth of embarrasement. “Thank you, Frank. That’s very kind of you to say. He was indeed,” I reminded him. “I was his piece of artwork.”

Frank placed the canvas on the floor beside him as his facial expression changed completely. Subsequently, I thought I had said something wrong, if not wrong or came out that way; I was blunt about it. My hands reached for his and his face, where I hoped that he was alright. His eyes were glassy, a beautiful tint of blue around the pupil and he smirked as an well feeling. I sighed in relief, moving slowly away from him. That’s when Frank had pressed his lips against mine, carelessly and done so again when I didn’t have much time to react to the kiss.

“I’m sorry, Kelsey. It’s nothing like kissing a beautiful woman such as you, I couldn’t help myself.” He explained himself.

“Frank, don’t you dare complicate things.” I said, solemnly warning him. He kissed me again and then, my hand. Long behold, we were in the dinning room, melding our lips as one. It was all gentle warm kisses and then we pulled away, simultaneously. “So how long,” I asked, breathlessly. “have you’ve been on to me? Is it some kind of joke or something?”

“No, relax. It’s only been a while, actually. After hearing all these wonderful things about you, I had came to my senses and accepted that I’m in love with you.” Frank explained.

“Oh lord, Frank! How come you didn’t tell me before?”

“You were drunk the last time and besides, it was Noah’s funeral.”

“How could you, Frank? How could you not tell me this? Isn’t that why we’re friends to begin with?”

“I know, but I just—well, you were hurting and it would’ve been too much for you to handle.” I just sat there, silently and enable to say anything at this point. Frank cleared his throat before he spoke, taking a blank sheet of heavy paper and opened a tube of soft blue paint. “And you’re right, that is the reason why we’re friends, Kelsey. But you still will not understand why I’m here. I don’t want anything at all, your husband—“

“Saved Joel’s life.” I murmured.

“Yes, for the love of God and I am so thankful of him, Kelsey. Don’t you see?” Frank suggested. “There’s a reason why I came into your life, and you will see that. I told you this before because it’s absolutely true. Just open your eyes and see that.”

“But what am I looking for, Frank? The reason to believe you’re in love with me?”

“Ultimately, yes, but that isn’t the only reason. You see, if you understood this, you would understand that I had an option to leave you alone and God only knows how far down you’d sink.” Frank explained and looked up at me, dipping the paintbrush into the pain.

“Far I would sink?” I questioned him as focused on his wet, sloppy painting. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Frank?”

Frank completely stopped what he was painting to look at me, with his daring eyes and asked, “Have you opened any more letters, Kelsey?” He asked as he read my face, immediately knowing that I haven’t and he whispered. “You should then, it’s very important.”