Life was hard for Janet. She sat alone in her room, the echo of Sam's departure broke through her heart. She had always been one to bury her emotions, to hide her pain behind a smile. But now, there was no escaping it. The ache in her chest was becoming unbearable. She felt as though she had lost something she had never truly understood—her chance at happiness, her chance with Sam.
She thought of the letters from Mr S. The way his words had made her heart race, and how Sam's words reflected that of Mr S. They both gave her comfort in times of pain. And suddenly, she realized the truth. It was definitely Sam, her mystery man from the letters.
Her heart, in its quietest moments, had always known. The way he spoke, the way he listened—there was something in his words that mirrored the very letters she had kept hidden from the world. She could feel it now, deep in her heart. Sam was Mr. S. She had fallen for him long before she even realized it.
But how could she ever make him see that? How could she fix this when everything seemed so hopeless?
Buried in sorrow, Janet sought refuge in books and decided to pay a visit to the library. Books had always been her solace, a sanctuary where she could lose herself in stories instead of confronting her own. But today, no amount of inked pages could quiet the storm inside her. In her mind she was asking questions to herself, Should she finally confront Sam? Could she untangle the web of misunderstandings between them? Or was it too late?
Meanwhile, Sam was broken and wanted to cool down. He needed an escape, a familiar comfort like that of Lady J. If there was anyone who could understand him, it was her. Without hesitation, he drove straight to the library.
The library door creaked open, and Sam stepped inside, unaware that fate had already placed Janet in his path.
Janet stiffened at the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned her head—and her breath hitched. Sam Foster. Of all the places, of all the moments, why here? Her pulse quickened as she watched him move, as if drawn by some invisible thread, toward a particular shelf.
She knew that book.
Her stomach twisted as Sam reached for it with practiced familiarity. It was the very book they had used to exchange letters—the book where Lady J and Mr. S had unknowingly poured out their hearts to each other.
Janet's fingers curled into her sleeves, her mind reeling. Could it be?
Sam opened the book, flipping through the pages, searching, then put his letter into it. Then, as if the air had shifted, he froze. A single glance at Janet, her wide, searching eyes mirroring his own shock, was enough.
Realization struck like lightning. He could clearly see her excitement upon seeing the letter being hidden in the book. As if she was waiting for it to happen.
Sam realised Janet was Lady J.
The letters, the confessions, the longing—they had been for each other all along.
"Janet," he said softly, his voice full of regret and longing. "I'm so sorry for everything. I was foolish, and I didn't understand until now. You—Lady J—you've always been the one. I love you."
Janet's eyes widened in disbelief as her mind tried to process the words. She had known, but hearing him say it out loud felt like a dream. It was the truth they had both been too afraid to admit.
And in that moment, their worlds collided—the letters, the secrets, and the feelings they had both tried to suppress. It all led to this.
With tears in her eyes, Janet whispered, "I love you too, Sam. I always have."
With that, Janet jumped into his arms, embracing him like the end of the world. Sam hugged her tight as tears rolled down his eyes. It was tears of happiness.