Page 92 of Never Been Worse

And I miss her. Tell her I’ll be back soon with lots of new projects to complete.

I miss you.

And I miss you more.

I don’t know why I can’t just come to you at night or why you can’t come home. Leo will blackball anyone who posts something he deems inappropriate.

I sigh, because this has been his line of questions since I left, but I’m determined to do things right.

I’m not risking it.

Nothing bad can happen.

He’s right: the private investigator contacted me yesterday at the insistence of my husband to tell me what he had found and our options for what we could do with it. There were plenty, and the PI told me Wes had instructed him I was to make the final decision on how to proceed.

I decide to take a new approach.

Just think of how hot it will be when you finally can have me.

Or I could just have you now.

Wes…

I hate this.

Ten more days.

Love you.

Thank you.

Six Days until Project Ruin Jeremy Vaughn

It’s only been four days since I’ve last spoken to Wes, but I’m starting to feel sorry for myself and missing Wes more than I anticipated, and I give in to my small pity party.

Remind me this is worth it.

Are you being serious or are you cranky?

I can’t sleep.

A call comes through, Wes’s face lighting up on my screen, and I roll over in bed, wrapped in blankets that don’t smell right. I hold my phone to my ear and don’t speak.

“Harper?”

“Hey,” I whisper into the dark. It’s strange being alone,sleepingalone, after spending so much time with Wes and living with him. I didn’t realize how much time we spent together, and without it, the days feel immeasurably longer. I thought it would be easy since I spent my entire relationship with Jeremy like this, living two separate but parallel lives, but it is anything but. I miss him. I miss us. I miss sleeping with him, and I miss talking with him, walking to his music room, and hanging out when I hit a creative block.

I miss Wes.

I miss Wes because this time apart made me realize I’m in love with him. Crazy, insanely, irrevocably in love with him, and I haven’t told him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “No. I don’t know. I miss you.”

He sighs, the sounds filling the line before he replies. “I miss you more, little wife.”

“I can’t sleep without you,” I say, my voice cracking a little.

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