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Spencer glances up at the sky. Despite the city lights, the moon and stars are still shining brightly. Paris really is the prettiest city in the world. It's probably a little weird to cart your MacBook out to the patio at three in the morning to write an e-mail, but Claire's asleep and Spencer's got something on his mind. It's not guilt, he tells himself; Spencer Hughes does not know guilt. But he's been sleeping with Claire for half the semester and Edward probably ought to know. Especially since things have been so strained lately. Spencer sighs, frustrated, as he logs into his e-mail account. It's hard to express how you felt for someone through an e-mail. To some degree, he wishes he could do this face-to-face, but Spencer knows how Edward gets when he's really upset, and he kind of likes the way his face looks right now. He types in Edward's e-mail address and holds his breath for a moment, trying to think of how to start.

Dear Edward...