"Dear Sharon, I can't believe I'm writing this," she read. Sharon's eyes were glued to the paper, and she sank down on the side of the bed to continue. Her hand was trembling, trembling so much that she dropped the papers. Papers. There were many. This couldn't be good; this wouldn't have a good outcome. She let out a small noise, something that sounded like a cry for help and a cry of total shock. She sank down on the floor to read the pages, trying to keep them in order. She put her hand to her mouth as the tears started to flow. No. This wasn't happening. What was happening? The house had been too quiet and now this.

Sharon wiped her face before she continued. She was sitting in an odd position, one that should have her leg cramping, but she didn't feel anything, at least not from her leg. She shifted, though, kicking her heels to the side. It had been a very long day, a very long week. The case had been annoying, courtroom proceedings that should have been simple. Instead, it was now Wednesday evening, and the week felt like it had been going on forever. She'd barely been home and now this. It appeared a lot had been going on at home, behind the scenes, while she'd been busy. She took a deep breath and started over.

Dear Sharon,

I can't believe I'm writing this. I never expected to ever write anything like this, and to be honest, I know it's the coward's way out. Before I go any further, let me say that I'm fully aware Jack did this to you over and over, and let me clarify, this is nothing like Jack. While you and I have always said we didn't want Jack or Sandra to be in the middle of our relationship, I find myself talking about him right off the bat here, but it's for good reason. Jack left you because he was a coward; he didn't truly care about you. He wanted things for his own selfish ways. He wanted to live life for himself. That is completely the opposite of this, and why, even though I'm doing what you hate-leaving a note-I hope you understand I'm doing this for the opposite reasons; I'm doing this because I love you so much and can't see your life fall apart. Jack leaving caused havoc; your life fell apart. You, being the wonderfully amazing, strong, resourceful woman, put it back together. You let me into that life, and I have to write this because I can't be the reason your life falls apart again. Staying here with you would be the wrong decision. Jack leaving caused a mess. My staying would cause an even bigger mess.

I also need you to know, before I go into my thoughts and details here, that I love you with my entire heart. I LOVE YOU, all of you Sharon. My heart is yours, has been for years. That might sound ironic with you sitting there reading this alone, but I promise you, Sweetheart, this is for you. I know you will be upset, but you have to live your life for you, not for me.

Let's face it-my heart isn't in the best shape and is holding you back. My heart attack last September was proof that I'm probably not going to be around long enough to be productive. Effective immediately, I've retired from the LAPD. I dropped the paperwork and will not be returning. I'm sorry to leave you with my absence-in so many ways-but you have a young guy in Nolan who can fill my shoes. I watch him in the office and think about the kind of cop I used to be. He's younger, sharper, and above all, his heart isn't an issue. It's been so frustrating for me to sit there, day after day, restricted from normal field work, and take my blood pressure. I know if I'd been any other cop you would have already suggested I retire. I'm doing this for you. I've become an embarrassment to the team. It's bad when Provenza is in better shape than I am, and well, he is. I can't drag you or the team down anymore. I'd take a bullet for anyone at work, even Provenza, and in my current condition, I can barely take the stairs without it being a problem.

You deserve so much better than me, Sharon. You and I both know it. Who was I kidding? Man, I love you. I have for a really long time. I was an idiot to not tell you that for so long, and after my dust up with the car, it was the first thing I told you after my blood clot surgery. I should have told you well before that. I can leave now knowing that you were the best thing in my life, Sharon. I'm glad I could make you happy as long as I did, but I know I'm just in the way now. You deserve more-personally and professionally. Let's talk about some of that.

Professionally, you are holding yourself back. I love you knowing that I am the one man in the entire LAPD who knows what a kind, loving woman you are. I know how smart you are, how effective you are at work. I also know that with your brains, you can have anything you want and deserve. You deserve the promotion right now. I'm holding you back from it. Davis has pointed that out many times. She has made our relationship front and center, pointing out what an idiot I am. I'm holding you back there. Without me in the way, you aren't a professional liability. You aren't the typical boss who is sleeping with a subordinate, even though we've been above books on that since the start; you wouldn't have it any other way. Without me as a problem, dragging you down and smearing your reputation, you can and will get that promotion. You deserve it. I've never met a more honorable cop than you, Sharon. You deserve it and whatever comes from it. I fully expect that you will one day be the chief. Chief of the LAPD-Sharon Raydor. I can see it now, but I can't be there to see it. You need this; you've earned this. I need to step aside so you can shine as you've worked for decades to do. Don't tell me you don't crave that promotion. You do. I know you, and I know you want it, even when you try to tell me otherwise. I think the only thing you might have wanted more, professionally, was to take that job with the NFL. Let's talk about that too.

It was a year ago now that you were the final candidate for the NFL job, yet you didn't take it. You didn't even let people know about it. The only reason you knew they wanted you and had narrowed it down to you is that you kept dodging that interview. They kept pestering you about it until they admitted that they wanted you. I wasn't surprised. Everyone wants you. You're amazing Honestly, I can't believe you ever picked me to love. Not many have. Sandra figured out that was a mistake, and Honey, I can't stand to let you make that same mistake. I only cause problems for people. I caused you to lose out on that amazing job. I know you wanted it. We talked about it at length, Sharon. I could see the sparkle in your eye. I could see the excitement to combine some of your favorite things-police work and football, not to mention the travel. Yet, you didn't follow through with it. You bailed. When I pressed you about it, you always blew it off, trying to act like it wasn't a big deal. It was. It was a dream. You used reasons like Rusty as an excuse. I'm a better detective than you sometimes give me credit. We weren't even living together, then, Sharon, but I know you held back for me. You didn't take it because of me, and you might say that I'm cocky to think so, but I know so. I know you love me; I've never doubted it. I know you are loyal and dedicated to your family, but sometimes, you need a push in the right direction. I should have given it to you then. Instead, I let my feelings for you cloud judgement. I let my need, to want you around, the woman I love, take over from pushing you toward your dream. Sharon, you've always given your all for your family. You did it with the kids growing up. You took the safer path in the LAPD to make sure you could be around for your kids. You did the same last year with me. You took the safer job, which ironically isn't safe at all, to be with me. I know you love me, Sharon. I love you too. Sometimes, love, though, means letting go. We briefly mentioned this at dinner not long ago. Remember when Rusty was on the phone with Gus and it sounded like that was imploding? You and I were standing there at the table. We said that breaking up is tough even when there's no other choice. That's how I feel here. There's no other choice. I cannot let you hold onto me. There's no other choice. I'm bringing you down in every way possible. I'm ruining your career. I love you, but I'm ruining your relationship with Rusty. Kid can barely choke out my name. It's like it's hard for him to still say it even after all we've been through. Living with you has been wonderful, but I know, still, that he doesn't like it. I've done that. I've driven a wedge that I have to undo. It goes to everything else I've said. I'm making things worse for your life. Even our house search was a disaster. I think that was an omen. I know I gently, okay, not really gently, pushed you into our living together. Then, we couldn't find a house. I can't help but feel it's a sign this was coming, that I'd need to let you go.

We both know the doc has said that my heart isn't in the best shape. I'm an idiot for not retiring already, but honestly, I wasn't ready to give up on work. It's something we both love. I love sitting by your door, watching that amazing mind of yours work. I love driving to work together. I love eating lunch together even if it's healthy crap you force me to eat because you love me. I love talking through cases together at home. I love it all, and I didn't want to give that up. That was selfish of me. You are sharp and in excellent health. I'm not. You have years, decades left, to be a great cop. I don't. I can't even get my blood pressure under control. I might not have much time left, and what time I do, I have to just let you move on without me.

We've both tried to get my blood pressure under control. It doesn't seem diet related. We've talked about this. The diet is the same-bland fish, veggies, and that's about it. You have said over and over you think stress did it. You're right. I know; I know, I'm finally saying it. Within that stress, you once mentioned that moving in with someone causes stress. Yup, although let me tell you this has been the best few months of my life, but I caused my own stress. Leaving you will help us both. You won't have to deal with my ties hanging on every surface of the bedroom. I know that drives you crazy. You won't have to deal with my baseball magazines everywhere all over the bed. You can go back to drinking your tea. I know that I drink some of it too, but we both know I'm the coffee guy. You've switched to more coffee at home because of me. You do everything because of me, Sharon, and I love you for it. Your life can get back to normal. You can stop eating bland fish with each meal. You can enjoy life. You deserve it. It's time that I'm not selfish, that I do something for you. This is for you.

And, let me hit on a topic that I know we don't want to discuss, but I can't be what you need in the bedroom either. You've never said anything. It's a topic we avoid, but the doc has killed all romance. We both know it. What good am I? I'll just leave it at that because not much needs to be said. Not much was happening anyway, and that's all on me. It was good before the heart attack, and I'm sorry that has died out since. It's truly not you; it's me. I almost can't stand lying there next to you. You're so gorgeous and amazing, and I hate what this heart attack has done to our romantic life. It's killed it, all my fault, even though I want you more than you could ever imagine. I know it's not enough.

I guess at this point, I don't know what else to say. Please don't try to find me. I'm a good detective; you've made sure of that. I have thought this through, but it's not something I've been planning that long. We got through my heart attack. I really thought I would get better. We had a great Christmas with all the kids. I attributed my still high blood pressure to the crazy holidays, the kids and grandkids around, and well, your cookies. Yes, with my strict diet, I ate way too many of your cookies and let you think Rusty had the sweet tooth. It was me, all me. I love your cooking, even if the kid thinks it's awful. Your cookies have always been a favorite, even back to when Chief was still in charge at Major Crimes. We had that testy relationship then, but you were kind and brought cookies in there that Christmas we had to work. Remember that? You couldn't fly to see your kids, so you went home and baked all night. I remember you telling us that, and man, I've loved your cookies since. It made me almost not like Ricky, the fact that he comes home at Christmas and eats them all. Crazy kid, but he knew what I knew-you make the best Christmas cookies. Anyway, back to finding me-don't. Live your life. Mine is over. I don't need anything. I didn't plan this out with Provenza or Rusty or Nicole. My kids are used to me being a deadbeat, so this shouldn't be too bad on them. Just let me go, Sharon. Know that you are the best thing that ever happened to me. You made me a happy man. Don't think I'm drinking in some run-down bar. That's not what this is. I'm not. I'm just leaving so you can start living because being stuck with a boyfriend like me isn't a life you deserve. I thought this through. You aren't bound to me. We didn't do any, "Until death do you part," mess. I suppose I should be thankful your slow dating approach was useful for that. Know that I would have married you had I not had all these problems. I would have married you if you'd have had me and been willing to get married again. It's not lost on me that as I write this and leave you, though, I sound more and more like Jack. Please, just please, don't ever think of me like him. I loved you. We had a good thing. None of this was me leaving you to live some better life. It's leaving so you can have the better life without me.

Our money is in our account. I didn't touch it. Yeah, yeah, I know we talked about separate accounts and left some things separate, but we have the joint house account. It's all there, yours. I don't want that. I'll live what days I have off my account. We agreed when I sold my house, I'd keep that money, which I thought was stupid. If anything should go in our joint house account, it should have been the money from the sale of MY house, but I didn't argue. I know you can take care of yourself, but I left my pension instructions for the money to go into the joint account. It's yours. I don't want or need it. I don't need much. I'll be fine. I just need to give you your life; you deserve it.

Go after that job. Become the chief. Eventually, take over the LAPD. I hope you do. I just know with my heart, someday, it will give out. I don't know when, but it will. I'll keep an eye on from afar. I'll read up on things. I'll be your biggest cheerleader, wishing the love of my life every happiness and success. Don't be afraid to find someone better than me. If anything, I guess, I maybe showed you that there are caring men out there. Call me a coward, but I still believe this was best for you. Call the NFL even if you still want that job. I know they want you, and you can live an amazing life. Me, I'll be fine. Tell the kids I love them. I know Nic will be disappointed, as will the boys. You can still be Grandma Sharon to them. Just tell them I'm already gone if you want. It's for the greater good. I know that.

I love you, Sharon. I know you will be upset, but I hope in time you see that I did this to show you how much I care. Just the other day, you and I were talking at work. We discussed that life could turn around very quickly. Some people adapt to their new circumstances, and some people don't. I guess I don't. I tried. I tried to get better. I tried to deal with my medical situation, but it's not going to get better. You didn't sign up for a sick boyfriend. I'll let you go. Life is turning around for you again, my dear, with this, and I hope-I know- you can adapt to my being gone. You deserve it.

Please, let me go. I've made plans the last week or so. Just let me go. I love you, and of all things I will miss, it will be seeing you beautiful face, eating breakfast with your hair a mess and no makeup, holding your hand as we take our walks-walks that were supposed to help with my heart. Trust me, though, that I will love you always.

Love,

Andy

Sharon continued to wipe her face. Her tears were ruining the paper, smearing his words. She couldn't believe this! It was all a dream, right? She'd wake from it. Suddenly, she stood, needing to find out. She frantically made her way to the closet and flung open the door. Andy's ties not hanging over the door should have been her first sign. Many of his clothes were gone. The suits were all there. Sure, he wore those daily, but he had a large wardrobe, almost as big as hers. He had half the closet. Much of it was empty. The suits were there. His ties were actually there; he'd just put them all away before he'd left, almost as if he was looking out for her, knowing she hated the messy appearance. His shoes, her head snapped to the floor. The man had so many dress shoes; they were all there, but his casual ones, his slippers, and his tennis shoes-they were gone. She knew that closet. It only took a quick glance. He'd left. She looked up. The kids had gotten them new luggage for Christmas, now just a few months ago, after Andy had broken the wheels on two of his bags when moving in and Rusty running over one bag while helping Andy move in. That new set was gone. It was a simple, navy blue set, something the kids had said the two should use more often now to visit. With Andy's heart attack, the kids had thought the two might retire, might travel more to visit them even, so they'd gotten them new luggage. It was gone. She didn't even care about that, but the luggage meant he'd left. She rushed to the bathroom. His things were gone. She almost collapsed again the door, standing there in the doorway of their bedroom. Yes, it was theirs. She loved that man more than she had loved anyone. His toothbrush, his razor-both gone. Her eyes fell to his nightstand. She couldn't stand to see it empty. His glasses that were always there with a sports magazine-gone. The only thing there was the house phone. She reached for it, trying to calm down enough to make a call. This wasn't happening.

"Lieutenant, ahh, Louie," she said when he answered. "I need your help. Something terrible has happened."