After the allusion and clue given in the interview, it took less than six hours until I heard her name mentioned as one of the possible suspects. Eight hours was enough for the networks to declare her identified and the first journalist to knock on her door.

“Who?” was her first response.

“What?” followed shortly thereupon.

“I don’t know,” was her first intelligent answer and the dominant answer to most of the reporter’s questions.

As I watched the scene unfolding on the telly, I delighted to see her again, a blast from my past, older in so many ways, subdued and startled. Tim saw her when I did, held his hands in front of his face, tried not to look for reasons I don’t quite understand but failed to not see her.

All the anxiety he once experienced rushed back. Every fear he had forgotten had become manifest, caught in Schroedinger’s box between her love and her anger, since the arrival of the camera. She had known about his letters, some of them, and he wondered if she’d read them, reacted.

I can only imagine what Marylou felt when she read Tim’s letters; given the way things unfolded, I think the scene proposed by the film was plausible although they overplayed her innocence. She had led him on, she had cruelly used him. If he dragged her into the spotlight unwillingly, she had pushed him into the muck, ground him into dust. Maybe she didn’t deserve this fate but she certainly was not innocent either.

The film portrayed him as calm, cool and reserved which I can attest is far, very far, from truth. I think he sensed what was to come for while their story had been positioned as romantic, in truth, it was anything but cool.

She refused to talk to anyone, at first. What could she say? He remained as silent on the subject as he was before. Left to their own devices, nothing would have happened or what would have transpired would have come naturally but fate pressed them hard.

The expectations of the crowd soared while the thoughts of the participants were burdened with pains no one knew. To the public, there was no explaining why she reacted the way that she did.

How could she walk away from such love? Why should she fail to give him a try, at least?

All anyone knew is that they had dated and parted, leaving him to pine and write love letters. Why wouldn’t she give the guy another chance?

About David Cain

David Cain, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Witch, Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
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