Page 86 of Unromance

“I don’t, actually,” Sadie said dismissively.

“Seriously?” Sawyer growled. “Just give it back. It might not mean anything to you, but to me—” She cut herself off as she felt her volume rising.

Sadie sighed, placing a hand at her elbow and guiding her outside, where the music fell away to a less mind-numbing volume. “I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Almost Lovers! You took my advance copy, the one my readers signed on my first tour.” She hadn’t expected to cry, and she hastily wiped away the traitorous tears that managed to escape.

Sadie stared at her helplessly. “Sawyer, I don’t have it. I own, like, five whole books. I’d notice.”

“Please, Sadie. I know your brother took it. I just want it back,” she pleaded. Leaving the house today had been a bad idea. She was not in any state to be out in public, much lessHigh Fidelity–ing her way across state lines to track down her ex.

Sadie’s lips parted slightly. With a steadying breath, she tucked her hair behind her ear, nodding slowly. “Ah. I, uh, may have it.” Spinning her keys around her finger, she jerked her head toward a nearby truck. “You can follow me, but we have to make this quick. I—” Sadie sighed. “Why today?”

Sawyer raised her brows. “What do you mean?”

Sadie stared at her in disbelief. “You have no idea what day it is, do you?”

Sawyer pressed her lips together. She did not. She only knew it was Sunday because that was the day Alex worked, when she did her book drops.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Sawyer,” Sadie said with as much warmth as was in the air. Which was to say, zero. With that, she turned, gravel crunching under her boots as she headed toward her truck without a backward glance.

Sawyer slipped back into her car, following Sadie through the tiny town. Now that she was paying attention, she noticed the shop windows were all decked out in pink and red for the holiday.

When Sadie pulled into a town house driveway, Sawyer parked along the street before hurrying up the walkway. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She was really running the emotional gamuttoday, the thrill of excitement numbing her anger. She was doing this. Getting her book back.

“We have to be quick,” Sadie said again as she unlocked the front door.

“Trust me, Sadie, I’m not expecting you to roll out the red carpet for me.”

Sadie scoffed, swinging the door wide for her to enter. “It’s not that. I just didn’t factor a third wheel into my plans for tonight.”

As she said it, Sawyer took in the touches around the space that were distinctly Not Sadie. The pink slippers by the door, the fluffy cardigan on the coatrack, the rainbow bowl Sadie dropped her keys into. Of course. Sadie had a new girlfriend, and they had plans for Valentine’s Day. Sawyer cringed. The first and only Valentine’s Days Sawyer ever celebrated had been with Sadie.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I know this is out of the blue. I was handed a bottle of your whiskey today, and I don’t know what came over me. I just… I wanted my book back and I was done making excuses to avoid you, I guess.”

Sadie nodded slowly, her gaze flickering from head to toe. “If I have it, it’s back here.” Kicking off her boots, she disappeared down the hall, and Sawyer followed, feeling like an intruder in Sadie’s new life. As uncomfortable as it was, it was a relief, almost, to see that Sadie was fine. That she wasn’t as much of a mess as Sawyer was. That there was life after love. Someone should tell Cher.

From the hall closet, Sadie pulled out a few boxes labeled “Hanukkah stuff,” before producing an unmarked brown box covered in dust. They both stared down at it and not at each other, this physical representation of the baggage between them.

“I never opened it,” Sadie confessed. “It was petty, sending him to grab my things instead of doing it myself. I didn’t even need any ofthe stuff I sent him to get. Anyway—” She gestured to the box, rubbing the back of her neck uncomfortably. “Go for it.”

Sadie disappeared down the hallway, much like Sawyer wanted to disappear altogether. Sinking onto the carpet, she tugged the flaps open, a cloud of dust making her sneeze. Gingerly, she removed a faded university T-shirt that had originally been hers, the mystery of where it had gone finally solved. She set it aside, each memento of their relationship like pouring lemon juice onto an open wound. Or maybe less like lemon juice, more like lancing something that had festered inside her because she’d closed it up without cleaning it first.

She choked on a sob when her fingers brushed paper. She inhaled shakily as she tugged her book from the miscellaneous items still in the box, her fingers reverently tracing her name on the cover. The spine was bound with clear packing tape, the glue visible beneath from where it had been opened and closed so many times. The cover was bent and fraying at the edges, but she’d never seen a more perfect copy of her first book, with the original cover, before it had been rebranded with the movie poster. Flipping it open, she couldn’t even read the messages from her readers—herfirstreaders—because her eyes were welling with tears faster than she could blink them away.

She closed up the box, not needing anything else from it, and placed it back by the closet. She tucked her book inside of her coat, next to her heart, following the sounds from down the hall.

“Did you find it?” Sadie asked, glancing up from where she was arranging a charcuterie board.

Sawyer nodded, flashing the book from inside her coat.

A pained expression flashed across Sadie’s face. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t know. I would’ve never—you sacrificed so much for that book…”

Sawyer rolled her eyes.

“What?” Sadie asked defensively.

“You couldn’t resist one more jab, could you?”

---