The letter sat on the dining room table, not far from where he had left it that morning. He knew intuitively that she had read it, but the silent stillness of the apartment told him she was gone. Picking up the page he’d penned not long ago, he read his words again…

My darling Jessica,

These words I am writing may be a futile attempt to keep you from doing what I am almost certain you will ultimately do—leave me. I only hope you will read these words in their entirety, hear my plea, and know that I am truly sorry from the bottom of my heart.

I don’t know what happened to me last night. Sometimes it’s as if some foreign mind takes control of my body, and I don’t even know who I am. Last night was one of those times. I lost control. I should have fought it. I should have been a stronger man and fought against the despicable person I sometimes become. I should have been strong enough to do that. All my strength seemed to be of the physical sort last night, though. I was strong enough to hurt you—to leave that bruise on your face, showing how terribly weak I am.

I now realize that I must be strong, Jessica—strong of will and not of force. I know I can do it. I will do it for you, if only you will somehow find it in your hear to give me another chance. I know I’ve had plenty of chances, and I really do not deserve another, but I must ask you, I must beg you for one more chance.

I will change for you, Jessica. I will change, and I will be strong. There’s probably no a reason in the world you should believe me, but I am asking you to, nonetheless. If I could somehow turn back the clock, take back the many times I know I have hurt you, and make things right again, please believe I would do it in a second. I can’t do that, though. All I can do is look to the future. I know I have said this before, but this time I mean it, and I believe it with everything that I am—I will never, ever hit you again.

I love you, Jessica, and I need you. I need your love, your kindness and your strength. You are the most special, amazing, and incredible woman in the world to me, but I know that even an amazing woman like you can only take so much. I wouldn’t blame you if you left me and never wanted to see me again. And though it would break my heart, I would understand. I hope you won’t leave me, though. I hope you believe that I will change, and I hope you feel that, despite the bad times, the love we have cultivated over the years is worth one more shot.

All my love,

Roger

Roger sat and stared at the letter for a minute or two after he had finished rereading it. Slowly, he rose from the dining room chair and made his way to the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to crawl underneath the covers and hide from the world.

As Roger suspected, the bedroom lacked may of Jessica’s things—articles that had been there less than 12 hours previously. On the dresser sat a bottle of her perfume, one that had obviously been neglected in the haste of her departure. Picking it up gingerly, he sprayed some into the air, almost feeling the warmth of her presence as the aroma filled the room.

Moving toward the bed, he spotted a piece of paper on his pillow, a letter from Jessica. The first thing he noticed upon lifting it off the pillow was that her usual light and delicate script was strained, written with an obviously heavy hand. With a fearful sense of dread in his heart, he began to read…

Dear Roger,

Where do I begin, and where do I end? There’s so much to say yet, at the same time, nothing more to say at all. It isn’t easy ending something in which you’ve invested so much time, energy, and emotion. It isn’t easy because I love you, Roger. In spite of everything, I love you, but I can’t do this anymore. It has to stop.

I read your letter. Its sweet, beautiful words almost won me back, that is, until I remembered the other letters. Though the words were somewhat different, the sentiments were the same. I love you. I need you. This will never happen again. I’ve heard it all, and the letters worked their magic each time. Whenever I read one of your sweet, apologetic letters, I was moved, and I felt I would be a horrid person if I did not give you one more chance. So, I did, and though things would be better for a while, ultimately nothing would change. I don’t believe things will ever really change. You’ve had two long years of second chances—more than anyone deserves, but you’ve used up your last chance, and this is where it must end.

Goodbye.

Jessica