Love Letters

[Rosary's POV]

I do have to admit, he already seemed like a mess when we first met. But can you blame him? Prison does not provide many items in terms of personal hygiene. 

But then again, I'm pretty sure back then, I was also quite a mess. 

I'm not sure if he told you but when we first met, I was a stressed out college student, drowning in assignments, struggling with study fatigue, and so, so tired. So upon our first meeting, I didn't want him to see any of my stress. 

I wanted to give a good impression, not just because he seemed like a charming person in his letters- which I kept telling myself not to easily fall for at first! It all sounds dangerous and stuff- I know! Exchanging letters with a prisoner, he could've been trying to use me. 

But the thing is, when you've spent a year or two exchanging handwritten letters with someone,,, well, some trust tends to grow. and as you can see! Titus turned out to be a really great partner! So nothing went wrong with my decisions! 

But, if you want to know the trigger that made me believe I could really trust him, that was during a moment of my life where I had to choose between using my money either on my degree or to stay afloat. 

Now- Titus was not supposed to be my therapist! I should have been speaking about all my frustrations to a professional! Or a close friend,,, but he told me that I could tell him about anything and, in a way, I can't fully string enough words together to explain why I felt more comfortable telling him my woes instead of another college student or friend. 

I don't recommend doing this, because looking back, it seemed pretty self-centered of me to complain about my stress and exhaustion from college work, while he was stuck behind bars. Like, I was acting as if I was the one having all the bad days, meanwhile, he was literally in jail, and when he got out, he would have a permanent record. 

I had bags under my eyes that I had to get makeup for because of all the all-nighters I had to pull to keep up with assignments. Strands of my hair could be found everywhere because my anxiety was so bad, trying to balance all my classwork whilst also worrying about Tuition. His situation was worse than mine, but clearly, my thoughts were pretty clouded.

Seriously, each time I had to go to my university's website, my heart would be pounding so hard that I'd hear the thumps in my own ears. Any time I had to check what tasks I needed to do to keep my information updated in the system, and then also keep track of the credits for each of my classes, and also check my school balance. It's a wonder I still have so much hair to braid, the strands were falling out a lot, and it's amazing I didn't cry as much as I thought! 

Sometimes I got too scared to brush my hair with a wet comb because I knew that a ton of strands would come out. 

I ended up telling Titus all my issues through letters, and I feel so bad still because in some of those papers, I completely forgot to ask about him. He was very nice about it and just kept comforting me, but I still should've made sure to ask about him. It feels like a lie, but he was very sweet and I was so stuck in my own box.

But anyway, back to the topic, the moment where I had to make a choice between continuing college and taking out a student loan, or taking a gap year to get a job. This was in the hopes that I would eventually save up to go back to college again. So far, I managed to survive not having to take out a loan because I did have a part time job when I started my classes. But then the classes and tuition every semester would get more expensive because as I progressed, I would need to sign up for classes that offered more credits, hence costing more- the logistics are hard to explain. 

It was so difficult for me to explain without sounding nervous that I refused to talk to my mother about it. One, because she had a ton of difficulty understanding it and would just think that I didn't understand it myself, two, because I didn't want my mother to worry about me because so far, getting into college was my biggest achievement in life. Plus talking to her about my stress would only make me stress more because- between you and me- she was the least helpful when it came to stressful situations. A loving and hardworking woman, but I got my anxiety from her.

I lived a very quiet life, being a low maintenance child, for her sake, and so that may have made me severely underprepared for stress. But, it also made me quick to learn how to deal with situations on my own. 

But this one was the most difficult that I've ever had. I was running out of funds to continue my classes, close to needing a loan like some others. But if I did that, who knows when I'd be able to pay it off! But it's not like I could just search for a higher paying job. Those required a college degree, and I couldn't get a degree if I couldn't pay my tuition but I can't pay my tuition if I don't have enough money and I need a higher paying job to get more money and I can't get a higher paying job unless I have a college degree but I can't get a degree until I can first afford all my classes but I can't afford all my classes unless I save up more money but I can't do that with my part time job because it can only pay me so much so I need a better job but I can't get a better job unless I get a degree-

I'm rambling, my apologies. 

So you can imagine my surprise when, after writing to your grandson about my situation and the choices I was considering, I suddenly received an email through my university email with a job offer. It seemed too good to be true. It seemed like a scam at first, especially with how it asked for my phone number to call me. But then I received a new message from Titus a week after my previous letter. 

'Dear Rosary,

This is going to sound weird, and I understand you'll feel skeptical at first, but you're gonna receive an email from my old college classmate. Her name is Holly, medium height, blonde but a lighter shade than mine, green eyes. She's a business woman who's been doing well for herself ever since college, and right now, she needs an assistant/secretary/personal assistant- 

I can't fully remember what she needed specifically but basically she has a job offer for anyone who can just help her sort papers and stuff. No degree is required, just the basic high school diploma, some organizational skills, and people skills. 

I know you've been job hunting, and she suddenly contacted me too at one point! So I thought- 'hey! why not kill two birds with one stone?' I only gave her your name and the university you went to.

Below this letter is her email address. It should match the email address that will be sending you a job offer soon. My friend is a bit of a mess so it won't look professional- in fact it'll look sketchy. But I promise you can trust her! She just needs, a lot of help organizing. I mean, why else do you think she'd have contacted me? 

I believe in you. 

From, Titus.

So, I responded to the email with my phone number- I know, if it were anyone else, this could've been a huge scam project, but I trusted Titus. 

A, rather eccentric woman, answered the phone, immediately asked if my name was Rosary Paloma, to which I said yes. She introduced herself as Holly, and simply said that she was a currently a property owner who needed not only a property manager, but also an assistant. At the time, her budget only allowed for one position to be filled. 

She sounded very excited from her end. 

I was just standing there, in my small apartment, surrounded by sticky notes, notebooks, printed syllabus passages, with my laptop in my hand and phone in the other because I was pacing. Just a minute ago, I was about to lose my mind because I could hear the dripping of water from my sink filled with dishes I had yet to clean, and then the next- I could hear her cheering from the other end of the phone, immediately asking questions like how my organizational skills were, my basic arithmetic, if I could read ledgers, etc. 

I figured, why not? And, even just from hearing her, she sounded sincere. 

But, as you can see from how I was able to afford buying all those last-minute presents, the job offer was legitimate, and Holly ended up being someone who could pay me well. And, also eventually a good person and friend.

I was the one who decided that we should meet at a cafe I was familiar with, for our first meeting. I arrived in my best business casual outfit, resume, cover letter, and certificates, all printed and in an orange envelope. 

The meeting time was supposed to be two o'clock. She arrived at two- eighteen p.m. out of breath, hair in a messy bun, her blouse and pencil skirt wrinkled as they weren't ironed yet, and frantically turning her head every which way, trying to look for me. I didn't tell her about my appearance, for basic safety reasons, but I did tell her that I would be holding an orange envelope with copies of my qualifications on paper for her. 

Titus wasn't exaggerating, she needed some assistance. 

After eventually finding me and sitting opposite of me at the table, she fired off some questions, clearly in a hurry, and also flustered. I handed her my papers, and soon learned that she kinda forgot I would be bringing those. And then after skimming just my resume, she gave me my papers back and asked how soon I could help her get to work. 

That same day, we left that cafe in a taxi together- possibly dangerous, I know. She could've just been putting up an act to get me to lower my guard before kidnapping me in the most stealthiest way possible, but thankfully that didn't happen!

We visited an apartment building that Holly revealed to be a new purchase of hers, her first time owning home property. All the units were vacant, which is what was causing her stress, and she needed my help to not only map out all of the units, but to also list them down into a proper spreadsheet, and then market the units online to get them filled. After that, we then rushed over to the car dealership, also by taxi, because her car needed to get picked up after it was done getting an oil change, then she drove me to a venue of hers that she's been using as a place to rent out for weddings, parties, and other events. 

It was one of the many venues she owned. She used to be an event planner.

An incident happened with the last party where a small fire was started, it got close to and messed up the AC unit, because the fire happened outside. Holly needed help finding the manufacturing number and also to call the insurance company to help get it replaced. 

By the time we were done, it was late in the evening. Thank goodness that day was a Friday and I only had one class! 

She counted that as my trial run day, and we began checking off the amount of tasks that were done. I first had to make a list for her, asking her about all the tasks, because when I asked if she had a list in the first place, she stared at me confused and lost. 

I got hired on the spot! And, things were crazy at first, but it was clearly a good investment as we both began to learn more and get better at our tasks. She quickly understood how to manage the spreadsheet I made for her regarding all her and my tasks, all the units were rented out within a month, the Ac unit for her venue was replaced, and I got better at making cleaner organizational lists. 

It all sounds boring, I'm sure, but, to me, I felt very accomplished, having helped to do all those things and also showing my skills at the same time. Not sure if you'll understand, but simply getting a job interview or a chance to show your skills is pretty difficult, and only happens in movies. Everyone is so strict and only follows what's on paper, that it's difficult to get such serious people to give you a chance. 

And, being an assistant ended up requiring all my attention- which was surprising! I didn't think anything could make me care about something else other than my college assignments, until I got new assignments that I would get paid for doing. 

So, I told myself I would just take one gap year, to see how this job as an assistant would treat me. That gap year would soon turn into dropping out of college to dedicate all my time to my secretary work, and it made me feel so much better! I was less stressed, less feeling like I was wasting time, I was getting paid, and my hair was falling out less!

And I wrote everything about what happened at my new job to Titus. He always responded, so happy for me and I still feel bad for the times I would forget to ask about him. I've made sure not to do that now, but also to not hover so much, Holly helped me find that balance.

But, something funny to mention. One time I asked him if Holly actually contacted him first, asking if he knew anyone available. Because after getting to know her more, I learned that she knew Titus got arrested, through talking to his old friends, but she never had time to reach out and visit him. 

There was no way she would have time to check on him, give a call, or any visits that required prior paperwork and waiting. Not with how busy she was, after having quit her job to try and start her own business with the money she saved up. And she was also especially in a hurry because she even took out a small loan to help her buy the apartment building, there was a lot of credit card debt involved too. 

All of that was eventually paid off, but you can tell where I'm going. She was almost too busy for anything. 

But Titus simply told me that he couldn't remember the specifics. 

I got the idea that he must've used what was likely his one phone call, to get in touch with an old friend, and told her about me. He just won't admit it.

That, was the first trigger that made me realize that perhaps I could trust him more, and maybe we could be closer?

Those other feelings didn't happen yet!! I was still being rational! Very rational! 

The second trigger, ah, make sure you don't let Titus know about this, but the second trigger that made me realize I wouldn't mind him living with me was when I first felt scared. Deeply scared, and that I didn't want to be alone. 

It began when my mother ended up having some health issues. Cholesterol issues, so I moved back in with her, to take care of her. 

She passed, eventually, and I think I saw it coming. My parents both had me at a late age, hence why my dad was the first to pass but that could mostly be blamed by his bad health from working construction, and I ended up all alone. That wasn't the trigger by the way! I didn't ask Titus to live with me out of loneliness! She passed long before he got out of prison! I had other family members to comfort me, and even my boss gave me her condolences with some time off work. 

But I did end up inheriting a house that felt too lonely for me to live in by myself. My sister had a life of her own and didn't want the house, and neither did my aunt or uncle. I was the only one who wanted the house. A very rare thing, and it should seem great! She's currently having her own Christmas party with my own relatives, not even thinking about it still!

No family conflict over property, except when you take in the fact that it's like a lonely cottage, a nice but old house, surrounded by tall trees that emphasized how long ago the house was built. And the neighborhood was a big, spacious place. 

I thought I could get used to it, after all, it my childhood home and I knew most of the neighbors. Living there didn't feel dangerous, but heading home on my own certainly felt dangerous.

Please don't tell Titus this next part! Nothing happened to me, and the person didn't do anything, but one day when I was saying goodnight to my boss and heading home. This was when she recently rented an office on one of the floors for an office building.

I'm still so proud of how far she made it!

Um- but, when heading home from that office, the trip was now farther, since I no longer lived in an apartment in the city. And, taxi rides could only get me so close to home. I of course couldn't give the drivers my exact address, because while most seem nice- well, you must already know how it is for us, don't you, ma'am?

I'd get dropped off at the closest public spot to my neighborhood, and then walk the rest of the way home. Since the neighborhood is familiar, that part is easy, even at night, but it's in the city, where I have to wait for a cab, where it's scary.

And one day, I noticed someone following me. Well, I can't tell if he actually was following me, or more, he just happened to be close by- I caught sight of his shadow hiding behind one of the poles. I just made sure to go somewhere with people, thankfully at the nearby park, there was a late party going on with fireworks. I didn't want to stay to confirm my paranoia. 

After that incident, suddenly the windows and doors of my house felt eerie to look at and be near. I got Wolfie at a nearby shelter, as soon as I could, and then even after adopting a new dog- he was still just a harmless puppy but, I may have begun writing on a whim- it was late at night- I began writing to Titus a letter, asking, if he had nowhere else to go, if he was okay with staying with me. I never told him the reason, but I also didn't think too much about it until it was sent, and then I realized how crazy of an idea that was, asking an inmate to stay with me after his sentence was up! 

But it was too late to take back, and so I decided to seriously consider it. I scheduled some time to go and see him to have a serious conversation about it. He agreed after some thought, repeatedly telling me that it would only be until he could get back on his own feet.

Sorry- this is supposed to be the serious part but I can't stop giggling- after that visit, Titus went through some changes. After seeing me with my new puppy and after I asked him if he wanted to move in with me, part of me suspected that he could tell it was because I didn't feel safe- um- by the time he got out, he was um- his biceps got noticeably bigger. He told me that he picked up more exercising, for my sake...

And suddenly, I felt very safe with him! And realized that I had never truly felt wary or had any bad gut feelings around him as I did that one night walking home. Even now, he's never once made me feel scared, not of him, and not when we're out and he's with me.

Maybe, perhaps, my feelings may have started from there after he came home with me- oh maybe I shouldn't phrase it like that...

[Titus' POV]

Rosary and I had known each other for almost a year and a half already when she first asked if I had anywhere to go after prison, and if I was okay with moving in with her. I have proof too! I kept every single one of her letters from the first to the last! They are currently kept in a small lockbox- don't judge! Those letters were like the rising sun to me every time a new one showed up! And that is not an exaggeration! In a prison cell where your areas and activities were limited, when waiting for a new one to arrive, I'd reread the old ones like my most favorite book. 

The letter where she asked how I felt about moving in with her, I was pretty surprised and caught off guard! She's a little lady living on her own, having just inherited a house from her late mother, and she was thinking of having a soon-to-be ex inmate live with her? I thought, surely that letter was written during a three a.m. brain rot or something. 

The guards who gave it to me on the other hand, definitely read it in advance, got over the surprise themselves, and now was just eagerly waiting for me to finish reading the entire thing so they could probe jokes at me. 

Two of them, if I remember correctly, but sometimes when other guards passed me by, and giving me a snickering smile- man, I'm still fighting back the urge to roll my eyes- everyone was apparently board because nearly all the guards and prison workers knew my business. Very violating. So I would not be surprised if the letter was fake. I almost thought it was a lie, or a prank and I would not have been surprised.

They both stood there as I was sitting at one of the outdoor benches, giggling at me and waiting for me to react. 

"So, you gonna tell us how things are going with your girlfriend?" One of them asked. 

"Because it looks like things are getting serious!" 

"Did one of you seriously learn to copy her handwriting, just to prank me?" I sneered at them. 

They looked at me weird, and then told me that they never copied her handwriting. 

That was when I decided to do another test by examining the paper further. 

It had her handwriting, and that familiar smell that some of her papers had sometimes. It's hard to explain what the scent was, but it was sweet? Not like cinnamon, just something that would briefly smell sweet. The paper had that scent, but I still gave them a suspicious glare, because it's possible they could've copied that too. And then I searched the envelope that the letter came in, wondering if there'd be another clue. 

Found a couple strands of her hair inside and I knew how much stress she was going through that she'd find strands of her all around her apartment. 

Now, I'm not a detective. Not at all, otherwise I would've known how much my website violated several laws, but based on the strands of hair and the letter, that's when I started having some guesses... And realizing that the letter was real, not a prank.

I had several moments where I genuinely thought someone in the prison would genuinely try to prank me, even though there had never been a moment when anyone pranked me. 

I frowned, as I reread the letter, and then when one of the guards asked why I looked concerned instead of excited or happy...

'Dear Titus,

Have you been alright? I'm sorry that I hadn't been asking that in my previous letters lately. I got caught up in my own things and forgot. Sorry. 

This is going to sound rude, but do you have a place to go after you get out? You've got a few months left on your sentence, and I was wondering, if you have nowhere to go, would you be alright staying with me? 

If you want to! Only if you want to! But I certainly wouldn't mind if you did want to. 

I inherited a house from my mother, who passed recently, and I'm all alone. 

I don't like seeing the windows at night. I felt a shiver up my back just now. 

Signed, 

Rosary. 

"How do you tell if a girl might be in danger?"

And then they stopped smiling. I didn't mean to make them upset but well, that letter was not as fun as the others. I even handed the letter back for them to reread. Easy to guess that she didn't suggest this for any funny reasons, like being alone.

I've explained this part before, to grandma Carol, but I refrained from some pieces that seemed more, upsetting. 

I'm only telling you this part, Grant, because you're a mature person. So I'm not as concerned with letting you know about this upsetting thing. 

Rosary visited me again, to talk about her letter that came before her visit. 

She came with a puppy. I don't know how that was allowed, but one guard would later tell me that her puppy already had some obedience training and was categorized as a service dog. But between you and me, I think the staff was being sweet to her. I wouldn't blame them. 

She came to me with anxious eyes, I could see her nervousness even through the window that separated us and needed cleaning. But still, Rosary put on a brave face and acted fine. I could tell she wasn't. She brought up the subject in her previous letter, about me moving in with her, and in all honesty, I genuinely did not have any plans for where to go after prison. I don't think my parents would help, I forgot the contacts for most of my friends, and for the ones I remembered, I don't think any of them would be able to help me. 

Embarrassing as it sounded, I didn't have many options or ideas for how to get a roof over my head when I got out. 

I told her that I'd be very grateful, and that I'd only stay for as long as until I can get back on my own feet. I told her that I wouldn't mind sleeping on the couch or the floor, and I would help around the house whilst looking for work. She responded by first telling me that her house has a guestroom for me to stay in. 

I'm telling you, she is the sweetest person ever. I took up a bunch of cleaning and cooking jobs in prison with the remaining time I had, just to get some practice and experience on how to clean a house. Hopefully, I could get a job as janitor or something, and move out and we could still keep in touch. 

... As you can tell, or have heard, that earlier plan fell apart fast, I eventually got a job at a cafe, became like a house husband, and Rosary and I sleep in the same bed now because we fell in love! That's different story though. 

Before all that, however, after the visit ended. I could tell something was wrong, something made her feel scared, and so, along with working to slowly learn how to cook and clean, I also took up exercising. 

There wasn't a lot of good gym equipment to work with and when I decided to exercise more, I realized that I nearly had no idea where to start. 

Thankfully, my cellmate helped me out with that. His name was Chet, or at least that's what he told me to call him.

Quiet guy, and he made me nervous when we first met, but as long as he has his books, and as long as you don't judge him for practicing his bird whistling at night, he's a pretty okay guy. And even though I only ever saw him reading most times, he was pretty strong looking, and he knew how to fight. 

One time, he protected me when a huge fight broke out in the cafeteria. No idea what the heck happened, I think someone accidentally squeezed lemon juice into another guy's eye? Can't remember the reason, but I visibly remember him helping to lead me out of the crowd where a majority of the fight was happening. 

Figured if Chet knew how to maneuver away from a fight, then he'd know how to act in one too. 

He helped me practice punches, like proper ones, not the silly high school punches thrown by teenagers who had no other outlet for their emotions. He helped me learn grappling moves, ran with me during my jogs when all the other equipment was taken, acted as my sparring partner. If you're if I made sure to keep contact with him after I got out, you bet I did! He never told me how much time was left on his sentence, but I could wait. I still send him letters. Went to visit him in October too. He says he was born on Halloween, but I think that's a lie. 

He can be pretty creative like that. One time he found another inmate willing to help me train, and by that I mean he and the guy set up a scenario. 

Chet pretended, I think, to take the guy hostage. Had his arm hooked around

"Imagine that this is your girl, and I'm a bad guy. Figure out how to get her away from me before I hurt her." 

Yeah the poor guy who unwillingly volunteered was pretty confused at first until Chet explained my issue to him. He was actually surprisingly really nice and played along. Chet also had a drawing I made of Rosary pocketed somewhere on his clothes and showed it to the guy. 

Unnecessary in my opinion, but the guy applauded my drawing skills and cooperated more in helping me practice.

By the time I got out of jail, I realized how skinny I used to be, because after they gave me back my old clothes, my shirt felt tight. 

I remember when Rosary was there, waiting for me outside the facility. 

Wolfie had gotten bigger but still young enough to be considered a puppy, and I think it was January when I got out, but not too far after New Year's Eve. Because of the cold weather. 

She stood there in a cute winter sweater and coat on, a bright red scarf wrapped neatly around her neck, and with Wolfie sitting and waiting at her side. 

I just, didn't know what to think, my mind was blank! Six years being stuck in a place of grey stone walls, orange jumpsuits, the same rooms, and always seeing a fence when outside, and then, all of a sudden, I'm out the doors. I'm carrying a bag of all my possessions returned to me that I haven't seen ever since my arrest. 

And there she is, standing in front of the sun, taxi behind her, waving and smiling for me to come over and get in the car with her. 

She was, legitimately serious, and eagerly welcoming me. 

I just, walked, slowly, taking my first few steps, and then that turned into a jog, and then that jog turned into a sprint.

I made it to the taxi car, my mind still blank. She just took my bag and put them inside the car, then told Wolfie to go inside first. She turned back, and,,, I just asked if I could kiss her.

I leaned in right as she was turning back to look at me. I can't remember when I got that close. But I did, and I placed a hand on the roof of the car as I leaned in and popped that question. I surprised myself. And then she surprised me by saying yes!

I don't recommend doing this, because I still don't know how this process worked so well for us, but we ended up having such good chemistry! 

I remember cupping her cheek and kissing her there, and staring into her eyes as she became my first taste of freedom.

It feels like a lie, I know, but it's true.