And then the building. The truth coming out in the worst possible way.
“She said I was no different from him,” I finish. “Her ex. She said I was control dressed up in good intentions.”
Grayson is quiet for a moment. “Were you?”
“I don't know. Maybe. I bought her building without telling her. I made decisions about her business without asking. I thought I was helping, but...” I trail off. “But she didn't ask to be helped, did she? She asked to be treated like a partner. Like an equal. And instead I just...handled things. Like she couldn't deal with them herself.”
“You were trying to protect her.”
“That's what David probably told himself too.”
Grayson winces. “Okay. That's a good point.”
“I just got off the phone with Rodney. I'm pulling the book.”
“Are you serious? You can’t do that?”
“I have to. It’s the only way. I’m canceling the cover reveal and giving her space.” I stare at the harbor. “And I hope that someday she can forgive me, even if we never—even if this is it.”
“That's your plan? Just...wait and hope?”
“She asked me to leave her alone. I'm leaving her alone.”
“That's not romantic. That's giving up.”
“It's respecting her wishes.”
“It's being a coward.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “But I've spent months making decisions for her. Maybe it's time I let her make the next one.”
Grayson looks like he wants to argue, but he doesn't. He just sits with me in the silence of my expensive empty condo, watching the afternoon light fade over the harbor.
“For what it's worth,” he finally says, “Michelle thinks Jessica just needs time. She's not gone forever. She's just...processing.”
“What if she processes and decides I'm not worth the trouble?”
“Then you'll deal with that when it happens.” He stands up. “But for now? Take a shower. Change out of those ridiculous pants. And maybe eat something that isn't self-pity.”
“That's your advice?”
“My advice is to not give up. But since you're clearly not going to take that advice, the shower thing is my backup plan.”
He leaves, and I'm alone again with my thoughts and my sandy khakis and the ghost of a kiss I'll probably remember for the rest of my life.
I take the shower, change into clean clothes, and then eat half a protein bar because that's all I can manage.
Then I sit at my desk in my writing office and look at the framed review on the wall.
This book reads like the author stopped believing in his own story.
J.A. Reads Romance. Jessica. The woman I love, telling me the truth before I was ready to hear it.
She was right then. She's right now. I stopped believing in my own story somewhere along the way. I got so scared of being vulnerable that I forgot how to be honest.
And when I finally tried to be honest—really honest, in the manuscript and the letters and on that beach with my heart in my hands—I did it all wrong. I was honest about my feelings but secretive about my actions. I told her I loved her while hiding the fact that I'd bought her building, that I was planning to announce a book about us, that every decision I made was something I didtoher instead ofwithher.
Love isn't about protecting someone from their own life. It’s about walking through life together.
