Page 53 of How to Write a Rom-Com

“I think I told Liam I was falling in love with him last night,” I mumble, trying to piece together the flashes of my memory. I rub my temples as if that will magically clear up the night for me.

“Come again?” Elle says, the panic in her voice mirroring mine.

“I was so out of it and I was falling asleep and… Oh man, I amsonot equipped to handle this,” I say defeated. I slump back in my chair, my mind going in a million different directions.

“Tell me exactly what you remember,” she instructs, and I comply. I say that Liam drove me home and we talked before I fell asleep. I don’t remember everything, but I think I compared him to a love interest.

“Well, this is a lot to process,” Elle mumbles.

“Oh!” I exclaim. “I also got the big sister talk from Liam’s sister yesterday,” I explain, cringing at the memory.

“What did she say to you?”

“Basically, that Liam’s heart has been broken before and he’s the most amazing person who puts off his own dreams to take care of his family, and basically I’m just a monster who came here and is threatening to destroy him,” I ramble.

“I’m going to assume you’re paraphrasing there,” Elle says sarcastically.

“That was basically the gist,” I reply flatly.

Elle lets out a big sigh. “Well, here’s the good news. You’re coming home in a week. So, whatever is going to happen, will happen.”

“Are you freakingkiddingme? How the hell is that good news?” I practically scream at her.

“I’m not sure. I’m working on the fly here,” she says casually.

I lay my head on top of my folded arms on the counter. “I can’t do this, Elle. It’s too much. Everything that’s happened… There’s no way this ends without me hurting Liam. And I don’t want that.”

“What do you want to do? Do you want to tell Liam that you were basically sent there to plot a romance series and just so happened to fall for him in the process?”

“Not when you put it like that,” I mumble.

“He might understand. He might think it’s cool that you’re using him for the book,” Elle says, trying to be empathetic.

“But I’m notusinghim,” I say quickly. “I think I’m using the setting more than I’m using the people. Either way, I would throw this whole book away just to keep him,” I admit, my heart physically aching at the thought of leaving Liam in a few days. “I really believed that I would never feel something like we read about in our books, that all of it was just a fairy tale, but with Liam—”

“Then I think you have your answer,” Elle says, pithily. I look at the Liz’s bag on the counter and think about all the times I’ve smiled over the past few weeks.

I was in a rut before I came here. I needed a change. I needed to remember why I loved romance, and this lake, this town, this man, has done that. As much as I hate to admit it—and never will publicly—Anne and Josie were right. This city girl needed to experience small-town life. And now that I have, I think it may have changed me forever.

“I think I just need some processing time.” Elle likes to compare my “processing time” to Sherlock going into his mind palace. I say it whenever I need to take a break from reality, sit by myself with a manuscript, or go for a walk. It’s the time when I let the logical side of my brain take over and push my creative, emotional thoughts to the side. I think that is the only thing that is going to get me out of this situation.

“I feel like the past few days have just been too emotional for me, with Josie and then this Liam... situation. I just need to take a beat.”

“That sounds like a good idea, call me later,” Elle says, with an oddly upbeat voice. She hangs up before I have the chance to respond.

I wander outside and lean against the railing on the deck. I take a photo of the sun shining on the lake. I’ve been waking up to this view for weeks, but it hasn’t lost its appeal yet. I wonder if it ever will. As I finish my pancakes at the kitchen counter, I write out a post to go with the photo on my Instagram.

What. If.

So many of my favorite romance novels explore the complex relationship between these two words.

What if?

What if there is a novel-worthy romance out there for me? For all of us? Isn’t that what we all believe when we open a book?

I’m waffling, I know. A few weeks ago, I might have answered a HARD no to these questions. But now… what if?

I hit “Share” and feel the urge to keep writing. Now that my body is nourished and hydrated, I have a lot to decompress from in the last few days.

---