Mom could have done that.
Xavier could have done that.
Hell, I could have done that.
But I didn't. I chickened out and ran away, and now it's cost Xavier his career.
And cost me the man I'm in love with.
I didn't even get to tell him. Not that it would matter now anyway.
I flop back down. "You know I'm actually an accountant."
"Yeah, I know that. I'm just surprised you put your writing out there again. I'm happy you’re back to it. It always pissed me off that you let one or two stupid people influence your decision."
"Don't you watch my ClikClaks?"
"You know how the app is. It's random what it pushes out. I missed the first one where you announced it. And then, everything was blowing up. But damn, that's some spicy shit there. I didn't know you had it in you."
I sit up. "That's what she said." I can't help myself.
"I like this story. You should always write romance. You're good at it. But seriously, how did you come up with some of that shit?"
"A lady doesn't kiss and tell."
"Good thing you're not a lady."
I throw my pillow at her. I have half a mind to throw the cat at her as well. "Xavier was the inspiration, certainly, but mostly for how I felt with him. Not the literal blow by blow."
Pun intended.
"Um, obviously. Anyone who's actually taken the time to read it can tell that."
As long as I'm being honest I add, "I love him, Marl. I really do. He's the most thoughtful and caring person. He doesn't think I'm silly or trivial. He said he likes my topsy-turvy energy. To him, it's a plus, not something I should try to change."
"He likes you just as you are?"
I sigh. "Oh, that line fromBridget Jonesalways makes me melt. But it's even more than that. He's like a real-life Mr. Darcy. Mark, not Fitzwilliam."
"This is real life, Ophelia, not a movie. Don't you understand that? You're not guaranteed your happy ending just because you want one."
"You mean I can't write my way out of this one? I'm not Joan Wilder?" I reference Marley's favorite old movie.
She sighs. "Dammit, now I'm going to have to watchRomancing the Stoneagain. You know I have a weird thing for Michael Douglas."
She does, and we're friends anyway. She leaves the Brits to me.
"Ugh, that movie is so old. You need a newer favorite movie. I vote that you become obsessed withThis Means War." I admit I have ulterior motives with this one. If it's her go-to movie, then I still get to watch Tom Hardy—another Brit.
In a book or movie, this would be the sweeping grand gesture time. But Marley's right. It's not a work of fiction—it's my real life. And Xavier's too. I messed up royally in so many ways I could make a list.
One: I suggested we get married under false pretenses.
Two: I used his energy as my muse.
Three: I didn't tell him I was writing a book and publishing it online.
Four: I didn't stand up to my family and shut it down before this all got out of hand and caused a career-ending scandal.
