5
1095 Words
I slowly wandered down the hall and opened up the door to the library. I still remembered the first day James and I moved into this apartment. We had played hide-and-go-seek and ended up in this room. Today the fireplace was off and we now had books covering every inch of shelf space. The other main difference was that there was a small desk set up in the corner. James had surprised me with it after we got back from our honeymoon. He had also dubbed this room as my office. But in reality it was just a library. I sat down at my desk and stared at the last line of the manuscript on my computer.
"I grabbed my umbrella in one hand and my coffee cup in the other and walked out into the rain."
The cursor blinked at the end. Whenever I stared at the cursor, my heart seemed to match the rhythm of its blinks. I closed my eyes and tried to picture sitting back at that coffee shop. I could feel the sense of despair from my head to the tips of my toes. It had felt like I had lost everything. Even then I knew that James was my one great love. I cried when I wrote the last chapter. I had found it hard to eat. Hard to focus. I had put myself back in that moment to the point where James was concerned about me.
I opened my eyes and stared at the blinking cursor. This story was my heart and soul. How could it not be a good fit for any agency? How could they not see my tears on the pages? How could they not understand me?
Maybe the end was too sad. There should have been hope. Or a happy ending. But I refused to change our story. It had felt like my life was over in that coffee shop. I had been numb. That's how this book had to end. The next one could end on a happy note. I pictured James proposing on one knee.
I had started the next novel, but it was harder to write. Being apart from James almost ruined me. And I didn't want to think about that night with Tyler. Mostly because I didn't want to ask Tyler if it was okay if I wrote about it. I was going to change the names, of course. But I wasn't just going to release a book and hope he never heard about it. We were friends. Friends didn't do that. I thought about his wife, Hailey. Would she read it? Would she be upset?
Just thinking about it made me close my laptop. That was the problem. I had told myself I was going to write a whole series. But I was too scared to write the second installment. I needed to talk to Tyler. He was coming over tomorrow night. I could ask him then. I thought about the things I had already written. Originally I meant to have this conversation when I first started writing. But I had chickened out. Writing about almost being with him was different than writing about our actual night together, though. It was possible that Tyler would veto the whole thing. So maybe it was better that no agency accepted it.
I hated to think I had spent the last three years of my life working on something pointless. I immediately shook away the thought. Writing hadn't been the only thing I was doing. I was raising Scarlett. I could picture her when she was a baby. She would scream bloody murder whenever we laid her down in her crib. For that first year I wasn't sure I ever slept for more than two hours at a time. But I loved every second of it. Well, maybe not the week where she couldn't keep anything down and we were in and out of the doctor's office every day. I could have done without that week.
"Don't scare me like that," I said and put my hand on my stomach. "Promise me you won't scare me the way your sister did." I waited for an answer. In a few seconds I felt the sharp kick under my ribs.
Ow. I smiled. "That'll do," I said.
"What'll do?"
I looked up to see James leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed. He had lost the suit and tie. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a white t-shirt. His hair was pushed back like he had gotten it wet with the bath water. There were wet splotches on his shirt. And I had never seen him more handsome.
"I was just talking to our son," I said.
He walked into the room. "And what were you talking to our daughter about?"
I laughed and shook my head. He was so stubborn, but he was going to be proven wrong when I gave birth to our son in a couple of months. "I was thinking about that week where Scarlett wouldn't eat anything. I was asking our son not to do that. He responded by kicking me, so I'm pretty sure we're on the same page."
"All that baby does is kick you. I don't know whether that's a yes or a no."
"It was a yes. I could tell. And you're right, he does kick me a lot. A whole lot more than Scarlett did. Just further proof that it's a little boy."
"Hmm. Time will tell."
I sighed. "Time. Time is going by too fast if you ask me. Did you hear what Scarlett said? That she wasn't my baby girl anymore. It was like a knife to my heart."
"I thought it was adorable."
"You think everything she does is adorable. Just wait until she's a teenager and she says she hates us on a daily basis."
"Did you do that with your parents?"
"No. But that's a thing that normal teenagers do I think."
"Well, there you go. She won't do that because she's just like you."
I laughed. "She is nothing like me. She's outgoing and carefree and completely like you."
James sat down on the edge of my desk and folded his arms across his chest. His eyes fixated on my face as if he was studying me.
I awkwardly tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "What are you staring at?"
He didn't say anything. He just continued to stare at me intently.
"James, seriously, you're freaking me out." I laughed nervously.
- Writer
