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Jason texts and sexes a would-be employer.

An apartment she had refused to let him see because her lover had spent the night and fucked her that very morning.

She stood before he loving husband with her lover's cum dripping down the length of her legs; the guilt nearly brought her to her knees. Jan was devastated and tears poured down her cheeks. She wanted nothing more then to shower and go home. She never saw or had any contact with Jake again.

Everything in her apartment was quickly packed and shipped home. It was only when she unpacked the boxes that she realized she had packed Jake's letters - all of them. She cried herself sick and took to her bed. Matt's gentle care only made her feel worse.

"Jan. Earth to Jan." Gwen smiled as she waved a hand in front of Jan's face. "The photographer's are ready for you now. A penny for your thoughts Jan, just a moment ago I would have said they were X-rated. Then you looked so sad."

"Oh sorry Gwen. It's nothing, nothing at all." Jan smiled at Gwen and posed with her awards as the photographers requested that she look this way or that. 'A penny for your thoughts, if they aren't X-rated.' Jan wondered why she never destroyed Jake's letters. They were certainly X-rated. She couldn't recall the number of times she had them in hand ready to burn or shred them. Yet she never did. Instead, she carefully hid them beneath her ever-present open ream of heavy writing paper. Paper she kept beside her beloved typewriter Red.

God she had been such a fool. She could smile at her foolishness now. A year ago it was an Act of God that nearly ended her marriage. She was on a book signing tour when a large earthquake rocked their California home. Both of their kids had chosen colleges in California. Her firstbestseller had infused their family income and she and Matt had moved from the Midwest to just north of LA.

Once again, Jake's letters moved with them.

Jan smiled at the affect the earthquake wrought in her marriage. She'd used the metaphor dozen's of times in her romance novels. The real-life effect was anything but romantic. She couldn't even blame Matt for snooping about. She had asked him to check on her writing cottage. The fact that Jake's letters were there never entered her mind.

Jake's letters. She had done things for and with him that she would never have considered with Matt. He was her husband, there were expectations, and there were limits. With Jake there had been none. She had given her body fully and completely to him. There was never a question of love. Jake was about sex and desire - nothing more. The letter's contained it all in Jake's lurid attention to detail style. It was all there written in Jake's masculine hand on that ridiculous cheap recycled paper he had used.

And there, amidst the blizzard of her scattered journal pages, Matt had seen Jake's letters. There Matt read Jake's letters. And there, in Jan's "sacred" writing space, Matt had lifted up her beloved Red; the very typewriter that he had given her upon her graduation. The typewriter she had used to write each and every manuscript. Matt lifted Red high and smashed it to the floor, again and again, until Red was destroyed.

Matt never gave her the slightest hint that anything was wrong, other then inform her Red was broken. Only when Jan returned home and began to clean her office did she see what papers lay beneath the smashed machine - Jake's letters. She had sat on the floor and cried. Matt knew! Great wracking sobs of sorrow. Matt knew! And a growing chill of fear - oh my god Matt knows!

It had taken her hours to compose her self, prepare herself, and steel herself. With Red's platen and a small bookstand she had walked slowly to the main house. The bookstand was set on the mantle and Red's platen was placed carefully there.

Jan delivered a short mea culpa; after all it had been nearly twenty years.

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