Page 71 of Book Boyfriend
“Dammit! Stop creating a story where there isn’t one. I called that number because I wanted another shot with you. When I realized you gave me a fake one, my heart sank. I figured a woman like you was used to having guys like me around. I assumed you only wanted that one night and nothing more.”
I roll my eyes and sit on the couch. He walks forward and sits on the coffee table across from me. He tries to touch me and I pull away.
“Chloe talked about reading your books for years. I told her I saw you, but that was it. I never told her anything about what happened between us. It was mine and mine alone.”
“How chivalrous to not kiss and tell.”
“Will you stop? Let me finish. She kept pushing me to readBook Boyfriendand when she mentioned it was becoming a movie, yeah, I’ll admit, it made me interested. But I was in the airport just like I told you when I saw it. I flipped it open and read the first few pages. When I read what you wrote . . . When I realized it was me? Shit, Greer. You have no idea how happy it made me. It made me think I was more than just a night on the beach. That maybe you felt something, too. So I bought the book and read it twice. Then I started reading your other books. It took me a while to try to think how to contact you. When I saw what you made me, Penn, out to be, I was worried I’d disappoint you. So I tried to be who you wanted.”
I stare at the carpet. I refuse to look at him.
“You have to know, it was never about the part. It was always about you. I love you.” He reaches out to touch my cheek and I push his hand away, jumping to my feet.
“Stop! Just stop! Why not tell me this from the start? Why lie?”
“I told you what I thought—”
“What you thought I wanted to hear.”
“No! I told you what I thought would make me look better. You already thought I was a crazy stalker. I didn’t want you to know I was already in love with you from the first page.”
The tears flow down my cheeks. “You knew I’d been hurt before.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew how hard it was for me to trust anyone, much less you.”
He nods and scrubs his hands over his face.
“Yet you lied anyway.”
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
“But you did. I trusted you. I loved you.”
He stands and walks over to me. “Don’t say loved as if it’s past tense. This was a misunderstanding. That’s all. It doesn’t change a thing.”
“No, Fisher. That’s where you’re wrong. It changeseverything.”
Dog videos aren’t doing it for me anymore and that’s saying a lot. They were my go-to for happiness and now I don’t even have them anymore.
There’s nothing left to distract me from my thoughts. It’s been a week since I came home. One hundred sixty-eight hours and forty-three minutes since I broke up with Fisher.
He hasn’t tried to call me. I asked for space and he’s given it to me.
I know Luna’s worried about me and the circles under my eyes. I don’t sleep and I don’t eat. What I do is miss him terribly. I sleep with his stupid shirt and cry all the time. I replay all his words over and over in my head. I want to believe him, but I’m scared that it isn’t real. That he isn’t real.
I live in a world of fiction. My world consists of make-believe stories where good triumphs evil and love always wins. But we all know, good doesn’t always win. Turn on the TV and watch the news. Evil exists. Bad people do bad things and get away with it every single day. People with big hearts try to make up for all the sadness in the world by giving themselves away and then you hear they were murdered while helping a homeless person or stabbed when they gave their lover one more chance. Love doesn’t win. Love scars.
Books have always been my escape. I can leave my life behind and get lost in someone else’s. I can fall in love with a man covered in perfect words and actions. These books are not only my life, they’re also my income.
I know for a fact there are millions of people like me in the world. People who want to believe love—true love—is real. That there are still good men out there somewhere, waiting to be found. Honest men who don’t cheat or lie, searching for us like we’re searching for them.
But then you open your heart. For one moment, you let someone in even though every single part of you is screaming to protect yourself. You don’t listen because the hope for something greater is better than the reality that you’re alone and always will be.
They say time heals all wounds, but all it does is numb the pain. You never heal from a broken heart. You learn to live with whatever you have left. You make it work the best you can. That’s what I’m doing. At this point I’d kill to be numb.
“Sorry to bother you, but Fabian is here. He seems irritated. Luna asked me to get you. She wants you in her office. Her exact word was, ‘Now!’”
