His Temporary Assistant

Nothing like u do. I never slept that gud in my lif.

Unsincerely Yours,

Ryan G. Moon

Sunday 3:03 am

Ryan G. Moon,

Are you buttering me up to evaluate my typo tolerance threshold? Just so you know, I can’t be swayed.

Sincerely,

Preston Michael Shaw, Esquire

Sunday 3:08 am

To whom it may concern:

Why did you quit? For real?

Unsincerely Yours,

Ryan G. Moon

Sunday 3:21 am

Ryan G. Moon,

You forgot your abbreviated form of speaking. I almost thought you were an imposter Goddess.

Sincerely,

Preston Michael Shaw, Esquire

Sunday 3:33 am

Miss Moon: Preston, tell me.

I finally called her half an hour later. I hadn’t known how to answer.

It was a hell of a thing to drop the bricks you’d carried around your whole life. To share that load with someone, knowing full well they might not want to keep toting them the rest of the way with you.

But I had to do it anyway.

“Hi,” I said quietly when she answered.

“Hi,” she whispered back.

“Are you going to hang up on me again?”

“Depends. If you make me cry again, absolutely.”

I smiled in the dark. “Normally, I would hate making you cry. But in this case…”

“Sadist.” I could hear her smile.

“Can you talk? I don’t want to keep your mom up.”