Page 80 of The Final Draft

“Can I ask a favor?” I bat my bloodshot eyes at him and poke out my bottom lip. It doesn’t take much to look pathetic these days.

“Maybe?” He hesitates. Julian’s lucky to have him in his corner. I feel awful asking him for this favor, but my desperation leaves me no choice.

“Can we call an emergency meeting of Team True Love? I have an idea, and I need their help.”

“Do you mind if I ask them first?” Again, I appreciate Chance protecting his best friend. He’s trying to balance what Julian wants versus what he needs. Because sometimes, we need our friends to take the lead for us when we can’t think for ourselves.

“Of course. Let them know I didn’t betray him, but I know who did. You believe me, don’t you?”

There’s a pause, and Chance’s expression turns hard, like he’s facing an opposing player at puck drop. “Harper, do you love him? He says you never told him. Is that true?” I’m a little stunned by his question. Would I be going to all this trouble if I didn’t?

His question deflates me, the air leaving my lungs like a punctured balloon. The bitter taste of regret coats my tongue. Why didn’t I just tell him? I close my eyes and take a calming breath.

“It’s true. I never told him. But Chance, I love him with all my heart and soul. I didn’t say those words because I was waiting for a mundane moment to tell him. I wanted him to know it wasn’t in response to his declaration of love or because hewhisked me off to Italy or fucked me senseless. I wanted to say it because I love him in the uneventful times too. But with Julian, there’s never a moment that isn’t dazzling and spectacular. I was waiting for an ordinary moment which doesn’t exist when you’re with an extraordinary man.” I shrug, and a tear slips down my cheek. “So, yeah, I never told him.”

Chance sniffles and wipes at his eyes. “That’s fucking beautiful. I’ll set up the meeting. My friend needs to hear that before he fucks it all up.” Chance sniffles again. “Watch for my text. But be prepared, because Team True Love is a fierce bunch.”

I put on my game face, ready to take on this battle. “That’s what I’m banking on.” I need them to all be in fighting mode, because Julian is worth fighting for.

An hour later, I have a link for a video call tomorrow evening. I’ve got a lot to do to prepare for the meeting of Operation Team True Love on Steroids.

CHAPTER

FIFTY-FIVE

JULIAN

Maddie and I sit on the beach watching the sunset in silence. We’re kindred spirits these days. Both heartbroken fools. Even though Fredrick was a total douche, she loved him. That’s the thing about Maddie. She loves fast, and she loves hard. That explains why she’s been engaged so many times. Unfortunately, guys in her circle are like sharks looking for their next meal. Maddie is a big catch, and people often take advantage of her. She needs someone like me to look after her. I’m considering expanding the Decker Agency beyond sports to include actors like Maddie who need help, guidance, and protection, too.

So even though Fredrick was a horrible person, and this breakup is a good thing for her, it still stings. I feel for her. If she feels a fraction of the pain I’m feeling, she’s a stronger person than me because I’m a shell of a man.

I’m the tinman functioning without a heart, the scarecrow without a brain, and don’t have an ounce of the lion’s courage in me. Maddie is my Dorothy, the eternal optimist, telling me itwill be okay. She’s been down this yellow-brick road before, and even though it sucks, there’s hope at the end. If only there was a wizard who could fix me. Fuck. Twelve days in LA and I’m thinking in movie metaphors now.

We’ve stayed busy, because in LA, you can always find someone clamoring for a piece of you. But our cheerful facade and partying are merely a front to hide the pain. Tonight, we decide to face the pain head on. Stay home. Watch the sunset. Get drunk and numb it all. And vow to move on tomorrow. New book. New chapter.

“Do you really think she did it for revenge?” Maddie asks.

I shrug my shoulders. I don’t want to accept it, but there isn’t another logical explanation. It had to be her.

I miss her so much I consider forgiving her. But my heart and head are at war. Is this how it feels when your partner cheats and you decide to work it out? The problem with that? You can’t have total trust again. You’ll always have a fragment, a sliver of doubt, questioning their honesty. I can’t live that way.

“Are you going to keep writing?” I enjoy it, but never as much as when I was collaborating with Harper. I’ve never felt more alive. Maybe it was the process. Maybe it was her. Either way, I’m not sure I want to write a book as a solo author again. I’m still unsure how my romance writing will affect my business. Will athletes still want to work with me? My agency. In a world where testosterone reigns, this side gig is not typically associated with masculinity. And while my head says I shouldn’t allow other’s judgement to matter, my heart cares. Another head and heart conflict.

“Dunno. I can’t imagine writing a happily ever after, that’s for sure.”

“Sometimes you’re grateful for the happily for now, you know.” Maddie pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her chin there. As we sit on the sandy beach, she brings the bottle ofwine to her lips and takes a long, satisfying swig. I can’t let her drink alone, so I put my bottle of bourbon to my lips and take a generous gulp. Heartbreak drinking doesn’t deserve glasses.

“That was Harper’s take on our book couple. She didn’t want to imagine their story past the last page, and I wanted to know they were forever.” We battled back and forth on that point, and I gave in because I was happy in the now with her. I was willing to give her way a try. Look where that got me.

“Forever is a lie they sell in Hollywood.” Her snarky, drunk philosophy sounds wrong coming from the champion of love. Although, she's got a point. I’ve lost my one great love. Forever.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” Maddie’s chipper voice calls out. How can she be so cheery and bubbly when my head is swimming and my mouth feels like cotton? Last night I passed out on the couch, never finding the strength to make it to my bed. “I made you coffee, turned on SportsCenter, and charged your phone. You need to face today like a boss. New chapter, remember?”

“What happened to you?” This is the Maddie of our youth. The bright, fun, outgoing girl who commands a room. Not the sad actress on the beach from yesterday. And while I’m happy to see she’s bouncing back, I wish she’d do it somewhere else. I’m not there yet.

“Nothing. Just starting a new chapter. Isn’t it exciting? It’s like I can reinvent myself again.” She claps and hops on the counter, her legs swinging off the edge.

“Not really. I have writer’s block,” I mumble and pull the throw blanket over my head. I tune out her laughter and concentrate on getting my thoughts in order. There’s aninterview with Logan Swindell on in the background. It’s a fluff piece, and he eats those up. I hear him say something about reading a book, and I sit up. Logan never reads.

---