Page 117 of Final Proposal

“You okay, brother?” Ledger asks. “You sound like shit.”

“She left.”

“Like to go to the store?”

“No. She left, left.”

“Left, left?”

“Yup,” I say with a sigh.

“What the fuck did you go and do this time?” he asks with a chuckle.

“I almost died.”

His laugh is louder, almost as if I’m joking. “Bullshit.”

“No. I’m serious. Everyone she’s ever loved has died, Ledge. Everyone. It wasn’t until she said that to me that I’d thought about it.”

“So she’s afraid if she loves you, she’s going to lose you again and—”

“And she can’t handle losing anyone else.”

“Jesus. I don’t even—”

“The goddamn epilogue . . .”

“What?” he asks, confusion laced through his tone as I finally put the missing piece into place.

“Nothing, it’s just . . .” She’s afraid to believe in happily ever afters. She can’t read them because after the declaration of love in the last chapter, she’s afraid to see what happens next. She’s afraid to see if they’re still together. That’s why she doesn’t read them.

“It’s just what?”

“Nothing,” I repeat.

“Well . . . shit.”

“Yeah. You’re telling me,” I mumble. The past few days have been miserable. She’s my other half here in everything . . . and now that she’s gone, I’m fucking lost.

“What are you going to do?”

“What can I do? I can’t fix years of her thinking one way.”

“Sure you can.”

“You don’t know how stubborn she is.”

“You’re telling me you’ve given up? That’s not the man I know. The brother I know.”

“I haven’t given up. I love her, Ledge.” I sigh and run a hand over my stubble. It’s rough. I’m fucking rough. I look like the walking fucking dead. Roddy must think I’m on a bender, still shaken from the chopper crash with my bloodshot eyes and grumpiness.

But I can’t sleep.

I can’t eat.

I just want her back where she belongs.

Here.