“To apologize. To tell you I was wrong.” I take a breath. “To stop you from pulling the book.”
“You don't want me to pull it?”
“No. I don't.”
“But yesterday you said?—”
“I was scared. I let David's voice in my head convince me that everyone who tries to help me is trying to control me.” I step closer. “But you're not anything like him. And I'm sorry I said you were.”
He's very still. “I did make decisions without asking you. About the building. About the book.”
“Yes. And that wasn't okay. You should have asked.”
“I know.”
“You should have treated me like a partner instead of a problem to solve and trusted me to handle my own life instead of trying to protect me from it.”
“I know.” His voice is raw. “And I'm so sorry. I was scared of losing you, and I did the only thing I know how to do when I'm scared—I tried to control the situation. I tried to fix everything myself. And instead I broke everything.”
“You didn't break everything.”
“Didn't I?”
“No.” I close the distance between us. We're inches apart now. “You broke some things. Important things. Things we'll need to talk about and work through and probably argue about.”
“That sounds...complicated.”
“It is. We're complicated.” I reach up and touch his face. He closes his eyes like the contact hurts. “But that's not the same as broken.”
“Jessica—”
“Don't pull the book, Scott.”
“But you said?—”
“I know what I said. I was wrong.” I take a breath. “The world deserves to read it.”
“Even though it's about you? About us?”
“Especially because it's about us.” I smile through the tears that are starting again. “Besides, the names are changed. No one will know.”
“Everyone will. Small-town bookstore owner, grumpy landlord?—”
“Then let them read the most beautiful love story I've ever read and know that it was inspired by us.” I cup his face in both hands. “I'm proud of us, Scott. I'm proud of this messy, complicated, definitely-needs-work thing we have. And I don't want you to hide it.”
“But I hurt you. I made decisions without?—”
“Yes. You did. And we're going to talk about that. A lot. Probably with some arguing and definitely with some ground rules about communication going forward.” His stubble is rough beneath my touch. “But pulling the book and hiding isn't the answer. You finally wrote something honest. Don't destroy it because we had a fight.”
He searches my face like he's looking for a trap. “You really want me to publish it?”
“Yes, and do the cover reveal. I want you to launch the preorders.” I take a breath. “And I want to be standing next to you when you do.”
“You want to be at the reveal?”
“Of course. Holding your hand. Letting everyone in Twin Waves know that V. Langley's love story is real.”
He kisses me. It tastes like tears and forgiveness and the kind of hope that only exists when you've almost lost something and gotten it back.
