When Rose went to shut down her computer, she saw that Brendan had left his email open. I should shut it down, she thought. Without looking. This isn't right.
On the left side of the screen was a folder marked “Personal.” A subfolder listed her name: Rose Bingham. There were two other names. Who were these women? She clicked one of the subfolders: Maxine Vargas. She opened an email called "The Two of You." It was dated just a week ago, and the title was familiar.
My Darling Maxine... it began,
Yes, I agree we should talk, but only if we can interact productively.
If you can set aside your doubts, your negativity, your mistrust, then we can have a positive conversation.
If you cannot do that, then perhaps I am not the one for you.
Rose opened the other subfolder, the one marked Joyce Farrell, where she found the same email:
My Darling Joyce, Yes, I agree we should talk, but only if we can interact productively…
“Self-plagiarism: The lowest form of flattery,” Rose said aloud to the empty house. She opened her own account and found an email Brendan had sent to her, also called "The Two of You."
My Darling Rose... it began, Yes, I agree we should talk...
Rose pressed Forward, added email addresses for Joyce and Maxine, and a brief introduction.
"Greetings to the two of you," she wrote, "This email I received from Brendan Burns may sound familiar. Best regards, Rose Bingham."
The cursor hovered over Send. So tempting. But was it a good idea? Would it be kind or cruel to contact these women?
The sun was up. She must get ready to deliver her morning lecture. That would give her time to cool off.
Or not.
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