Not the island. The pool. The moment he caught me mid-stumble and everything rearranged itself permanently.
I smile at my laptop.
West and I have work to do.
And we'll do it from here. Together.
Building something that isn't temporary. For a future we both want.
Now…
West closes my laptop.
"Hey—"
"One minute."
"I was in the middle of a contract—"
"The contract can wait." He turns my chair toward him. "We need to talk to the reader."
I stare at him. "We need to what?"
He gestures just past my shoulder. Calm. Certain.
“West.”
“Jane.”
I close my eyes for exactly one second. Then I turn toward you.
“Hi. Sorry abouthim.”
“Don’t apologize for me.”
“I do what I want. And you love me.” I fold my arms.
West pulls me close. “Yes, I do.”
“Okay. You made it. You survived the fake dating, the lobsters, the laundromat, the Olympic arena chase, the penthouse… honestly? Respect.”
West leans forward. “Here’s what you need to know.”
“What he needs,” I correct.
“Whatweneed you to know.”
His foot hooks around my ankle. I let him.
“Emma wrote over three hundred thousand words for this book.”
I wince. “She basically wrote a trilogy.”
“And delivered you this.”
“Which means she cut two hundred thousand words,” I add. “Devastating ones. Mostly West’s… ahem… maneuvers.”
West clears his throat. “I executed several highly effective maneuvers.”
