Fuck, I’m exhausted. I pad over to my nook, collapse face-first onto my bed and pass out.
* * *
It’slate afternoon when I’m woken by my phone vibrating on the nightstand. My first thought is that it could be Michael, so I lunge on it without even checking who’s calling.
Big mistake.
“Alexis?” Mum’s voice comes on the line and I wilt against my pillow.
“Hi, Mum,” I mumble.
“Hello, darling! How are you?”
My mind wanders to the kiss from Michael on my doorstep this morning and I smile. “I’m good.”
“That’s good. And how’s the writing going?”
I hesitate, surprised. My parents have never asked about my writing before. I never even told them about the articles I’ve been writing for Bliss Edition, despite what a big deal it is for me. Perhaps I was worried Mum would fly into a blind panic again and start ranting about how I’m running out of time and need to find a man before my ovaries shrivel to raisins.
My fingers go to the book charm around my neck. Mum does seem to be trying, asking after my writing. Maybe she wants to be more supportive.
“Well, I’ve been writing a few articles for a high-profile woman’s website, and there was talk of it possibly becoming a regular feature.”
“That’s nice.”
“Yeah. But… I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything, and I thought I would by now.” I sigh, thinking of Mel’s words. “Maybe it’s not meant to be.”
“Well, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I feel a zing of irritation. Here we go. “What?”
“You know, moving all the way to New York, thinking you’ll build a whole new career as a writer...”
I raise my eyes to the ceiling. “It’s not a whole new career, Mum. I did work at the paper for several years, remember?”
“But that was just a little paper, darling. It’s a bit unrealistic to think it would lead to some big, fancy New York job.”
I give an exasperated sigh. I don’t have the energy to explain that it’s not a big fancy job—and it’s not like she’d listen. She doesn’t believe I can do it and that’s all there is to it.
Anyway, maybe she’s right. After all the articles I’ve written for Justin, I’ve heard nothing about the position. I’ve got nothing to show for my time over here.
Oh, hang on. That’s not true at all. I’ve met a lovely man—a man who makes me feel like anything is possible. Mum was so against the idea of me staying single, sosurelyshe’ll be excited to hear I’ve met someone.
“There is something else, though, Mum. I’ve met a guy.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He’s my neighbor. He’s a writer as well. He’s a great guy and—” I snap my mouth shut. That was close. I almost, without even realizing it, said, “I think he could be the one.”
As inThe One.
Bloody hell. That thought hit me out of nowhere, but now that it’s here, I can’t help but think, well… shit. I think he is.
There’s a flurry of nerves in my stomach and I have to force myself to take a deep breath. When I arrived in the city I promised myself I wouldn’t do this again—I wouldn’t let myself get swept up in some fairy-tale romance—because Ialwaysend up hurt and disappointed. It was fine when we were just fooling around at Michael’s cabin, but now we are back in the city and I’ve met his ex-wife and been to hospital with his son and there’s no denying we are in a full-on relationship. He told me he wasfallingfor me. And I’m… well, I don’t even want to think about what I’m feeling. It’s terrifying.
But when I picture Michael’s face, when I think of the things he says to me and the way he holds me, I don’t feel terrified in the slightest. Because this is something else. This is it.
“He’s what, Alexis?” Mum barks impatiently, and I jump.
