Page 104 of Austen Persuaded

I giggled. “I guess that makes me the heroine.” I sobered up quickly. “I need some time to think about how to go about this. I haven’t … well, I really haven’t allowed myself to think about getting back together, to have hope that he could return the feelings. Istilldon’t know if it’s possible …”

“Of course it’s possible. You could write a letter, like Wentworth does inPersuasion. It would be a cool gender reversal. Captain Quinn, you pierce my soul—”

“Is that from the book? I’ll have to reread that section. It’s been years since I read Austen.” Ignoring Viviana’stsk-tsksound, I continued, “Thanks, Viv. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little terrified, but I’d also be extremely angry at myself and the world if I lost another opportunity with him. So …”

She inhaled audibly. “So?”

“So I’m going to make an idiot out of myself, probably, but oh well. Please tell me you’ll be around tonight in case I need to cry on your shoulder and forget he exists. Or help me pack and move to another continent.”

“Always,” Viviana said with a chuckle. “But something tells me you’ll be doing something very different tonight.”

Chapter 25

Iwas never more grateful that I’d moved into an office with a door I could close, rather than an open cubicle where anyone could come upon me. Slinking into the office with a takeout lunch in my bag, I’d gone straight to my office and, fortunately, hadn’t run into Kylan or anyone else on my way in. He probably wasn’t even in the office today; I hadn’t seen him or any of the leadership team that morning. I knew there’d been an off-site leadership event planned for sometime this week—maybe it was today.

Having closed my door firmly and set my sandwich on the desk next to me, I opened a blank document on my computer and breathed in deeply.

But after staring at the screen for several minutes, I hadn’t written a word. Perhaps I should read the famous letter fromPersuasionas inspiration, even though I wasn’t convinced my love story was going to end like Anne Elliot’s. I wasn’t that optimistic about my chances of success, despite feeling determined totryand then live with the consequences.

“He’s worth the risk,” I whispered. My decision was made.

Finding Captain Wentworth’s famous letter online was easy, and I choked up while reading it.

I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it…

I had to stop reading, or else the tears would freefall. I needed to keep my wits about me to write this letter.

Or maybe I should just talk to him in person. Or a phone call?

No, if Viviana says I should write a letter, I should write a letter.

If anyone knows romantic overtures, it’s Viv.

It would also save my dignity a bit, in case he thought my feelings ridiculous or offensive.

Oh, who am I kidding? My dignity, or what’s left of it, has no chance of survival after this.

My fingers trembled. This wasn’t just a letter. This was everything I hadn’t said in four years, and it had to be enough.

With a bittersweet chuckle, I began to write, but this time I put pen to paper. Crisp, white paper. No more impersonal documents on a computer.

This time, the words flowed out of me, onto the page. Some of Wentworth’s, but mostly my own. I was stopping to reread my last sentence, over halfway down the page, when suddenly my office door burst open, rattling the hinges.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, dropping the inky pen on the paper. I looked up, and my breath caught as my heart did flips and sprints. “Ky–Kylan,” I managed, barely able to speak.

He. Was. Here.

I blinked, and for a second I wasn’t in my office—I was twenty-two again, standing outside the campus library, watching him walk away with his jaw clenched and his heart breaking. I never let myself linger on that memory. Until now.

This man I loved studied me for a long moment. As though he’d been running, he seemed out of breath as his steps slowed, but he continued in the direction of my desk. “I was hoping you’d be here.”

My heart lodged in my throat.

This was it.

He stopped in front of my desk. “Annie, I–”

“I am half agony–”

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