“I know.” I lean forward, all the deflection draining out of me. “I know. It’s absurd. The whole thing is. I was falling for you twice—as the pen pal who made me feel understood for the first time in years, and as the woman who challenged every assumption I had about what mattered. And I couldn’t tell you because telling you meant admitting that I’d been lying. That your landlord and your pen pal and the author whose books you loved were all the same person. The same coward.”
“You’re not a coward.”
“I hid behind three different identities because I was too scared to be honest with you. That’s textbook cowardice, Jessica.”
“Or it’s someone who’s been told his whole life that who he really is isn’t good enough.” She says it quietly, without accusation. “Your father, your company, and everyone who wanted you to be something other than what you are.”
I stare at her. “You got that from the manuscript?”
“From the letters, the cottage, and the way you looked when you talked about Vera.” She pauses. “You’ve been hiding for so long you forgot you were doing it. And then you stopped. You showed me everything—the writing, the office, the framed review. That’s not cowardice. That’s the bravest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
Hope cracks open in my chest. Or maybe it’s relief. Or the terrifying vulnerability of being seen exactly as I am and not immediately rejected.
“I need to tell you something,” I say, “and I need to say it out loud, not in a letter or a manuscript or a conversation where I’m pretending to be someone else.”
She waits.
“I’m in love with you.”
The words hang in the air between us, finally spoken, finally real.
“I’ve been in love with you for years. Since before I knew your pen name. Since before you smiled at me in that committee meeting and I went home and wrote about it like a lovesick teenager. I love the way you fight for your bookstore and your community and the things you believe in. I love that you gave me a two-star review and meant every word of it. I love that you see through pretense and you don’t accept anything less than honesty, even when honesty is terrifying.”
I take a breath. “And I know you’re scared. I know David hurt you and you have every reason not to trust someone who kept this many secrets. But I’m done hiding. This is me—all of me—and I’m in love with you. Whatever you want to do with that information is up to you. But I needed you to hear it.”
Jessica is very still. Her hands are wrapped around her coffee cup, knuckles slightly white.
“Say something,” I manage. “Please.”
“I’m processing.”
“Take your time.” I pause. “But maybe give me a hint about which direction you’re processing in, because I’m approximately thirty seconds from a cardiac event.”
She laughs. It’s small, surprised out of her, but it breaks something loose between us. The tension doesn’t disappear, but it shifts into something more breathable.
“You’re ridiculous,” she says.
“I’ve been told.”
“You wrote me an entire novel.”
“It’s only eighty thousand words. That’s on the shorter side for romance.”
“You framed my review.”
“It was a very good review. Harsh, but fair.”
“You signed up for the Letters to Local Authors program specifically so you could write to me anonymously.”
“In fairness, I didn’t know it was you at first. The pen name threw me off.” I consider this. “For about two letters. Then I figured it out and kept writing anyway because apparently I have a masochistic streak.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me who you were?”
“At what point? When you thought I was a heartless developer trying to destroy your business? When you gave passionate speeches about authenticity while I was hiding behind three different identities?” I shake my head. “There was never a good moment. And I was scared. I kept thinking I’d tell you eventually, when I’d earned the right. When I’d proved I was worth trusting.”
“By writing me letters about how to have courage while you weren’t being brave yourself?”
“The irony wasn’t lost on me.” I meet her eyes. “I’m sorry. For all the deception, even if I told myself it was for good reasons. You deserved the truth from the beginning.”
