My wish for him to hurt just as much as I was hurting was useless. I loved him, but I didn’t show it. I kept it hidden deep inside, fearing that, if I told him, he would use it against me.
Mom was right. Pride is a flimsy shield. It only gives the appearance of protection.
I was Shep’s daughter, but I was hers too. And that meant I had a lot of work to do.
“I love him,” I admitted. The crack in the words matched the pieces of my heart that were hanging from my chest.
“Love . . . As in the present tense?” Whitney asked.
I nodded as I raked my hand through my hair and looked up at the sky as if it held all the answers. “God, I love him and it fuckinghurts.I don’t want to love him, but I . . . I can’t imagine not loving him. I can’t imagine not talking to him. I just . . . I need him.” I dropped my head into my hands. “I’m so pathetic.”
“You’re not pathetic,” Wander said. “You’re in love.”
“Is it love though? Because I don’t think love hurts this much.”
“It hurts a million times more when it’s someone you love. If you didn’t love him, it would sting a little, but it wouldn’t hurt.”
“It feels like I’m dying,” I groaned.
Wander gave me a pitying smile. “That’s love, Wills.”
“I hate it.”
Whitney laughed.
“On top of it all, I broke the first rule of writing a book,” I said.
Whitney gasped. “You named a leading man ‘Chad?’”
Wander’s eyes widened. “You didn’t give the characters a happily ever after?”
“You made book two in a series a different size than book one so the spines don’t line up?” Whitney whispered in horror.
“Did you put a fake printed sticker on the cover?” Wander hissed. “That’s unforgivable.”
“No!” I said with—what felt like—the first laugh in days. “I broke the ‘show, don’t tell’ rule.” I shook my head. “I didn’t show him that I loved him. I only said it once and I only said it to hurt him.”
They looked at me, then each other as if they could telepathically decipher what the hell I was talking about.
“Are you gonna call him next?” Whitney asked.
“No.”
Wander looked confused. “So . . . are we gonna go burn down his house?”
I laughed as I wiped away the few remaining tears. “I think your husband would object to that.”
She shrugged. “I could talk him into it. I give great blowjobs.”
I pulled my feet up to the step I was sitting on and hugged my knees. “I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”
“What’s the plan?” Whitney asked.
“I’m not planning,” I said as I steeled myself. “I’m an author. Iplot.”
“So, what’s the plot?” Wander asked. “Do I need to get my notebook?”
“Nope,” I said as I grabbed my phone. “Ryan already did it for us. And I have it on good authority that it works.”
