Fletcher knew he shouldn't have really looked at the letter but it had been kind of hard to ignore. And it wasn't as if he'd been going through everything on her desk to find it. He would never have invaded her privacy in such a way. Though he supposed he still had simply by reading it. But that wasn't the point. The point was she'd been sitting on the letter for at least a week and not even mentioned it to him. He felt like he was at least owed the courtesy to be told about such a thing.

"I came to surprise you with lunch," he began to explain, mentally thinking to himself about how he'd planned to propose at the end of the lunch, "And I noticed it when I went too set the basket down. It was right on top, I didn't dig through your desk." Not exactly an excuse but it was all he had.

"Were you even going to tell me about it?" he asked again, still waiting for an answer to his original question.

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