Natalie gasped. “My…fancy book deal?”
“Fuck,” I grumbled, releasing her. I hadn’t meant to play that card. I’d just gotten so pissed off that it tumbled out.
“How…do you know about my book deal?”
I sighed and ran a hand back through my hair. “Look, it was an accident. Katherine came to see me and flaunt that you were in New York after seeing the picture of you and Jane. I couldn’t figure out why you’d be here and asked Rowe to look for me.”
Her eyes rounded. “You did what?”
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you were hiding your identity for a reason, but we looked through your page and found your editor, who kind of led us to Olivia.”
She blanched. “Who…who else knows? Rowe? Oh god, does Katherine know?”
“No,” I assured her. “No, she doesn’t. I asked Rowe to bury it, so she wouldn’t figure it out. I shouldn’t have done it, but then I found out you were here at that book signing. I drove to the Village to see you.”
“You were there,” she whispered.
I nodded. “I just…you said you didn’t want to be in this life with me. And you looked so happy. I wanted to respect your wishes. Look where that fucking got me.”
She slammed her hand into my chest. “You showed up and didn’t say anything?”
“Didn’t you hear me?”
“I knew you were there. I thought I was crazy, running out of the bookstore, thinking you were there. And you were there all along.”
She looked frazzled. As if I had confirmed something that had been haunting her.
“I should have talked to you. Then maybe you’d be with me instead of getting new material for your next Olivia book.”
Her mouth dropped open. The spark in her heated to full fury. I liked it better than her contained neutrality.
“Is that what you think of me? That I’m here to get more material to write about?”
“What else should I think?” I demanded, pushing her, wanting her to fight me. “I’d rather think that you’re using us than that you want him over me.”
“I’m not using you for material,” she snarled. “Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I’m not even writing an Olivia book anymore.”
“One was enough for you?” I goaded. “Wanted to write the shit about the bet and then go on and live happily ever after on the Upper East Side?”
“I own everything that happened to me.” She stepped into me then. Our bodies so close. Her anger so hot. Now we were standing in that in-between space where we were as likely to fuck as fight.
“Fine. Own it. Just like you do right now.”
“If you didn’t like what I wrote about you, then you shouldn’t have been so shitty.”
“I liked your portrayal of me,” I said, catching her off guard.
“What?” she asked in shock. Her eyes going wide.
“Yeah. That Natalie was in love with me on every page. Every damn page.”
I’d read it. Cover to cover. My character was…obliterated. She’d unleashed all her rage on the end of the book and practically destroyed me. I’d read it and only seen how much I’d hurt her. And how much she loved me. Two sides of the same coin.
“What?” she murmured softer. Her heart splintering in front of me.
“Yes, you loved me, even when you hated me. Especially when you hated me. But I’m still here, Natalie. I’m still fighting for you. Even if I can’t reconcile that Natalie with the one who is yelling at me right now.”
“It’s because you broke that girl,” she said. Her voice was low and mournful. “You broke her, and you can’t fix it. And you need to stop trying.”
I slipped the necklace I’d been carrying around all night out from my pocket. Then I transferred it to her palm, closing her fingers tight around the crown charm.
A reminder of my love.
A reminder of that night we’d looked up at the stars.
A reminder that this was real to me, even then.
Then, I uttered one word, “Never.”
Natalie
26
I stared into Penn’s eyes. Blue meeting blue. And I read the sincerity there. Heard it in his voice. The knowledge that he wouldn’t give up on me. Not now. Not ever. Not when he still thought he had a chance.
Slowly, I peeled my fingers back and stared down at the small charm in my palm. A crown. Our crown. My throat tightened. I had the sensation like I couldn’t breathe. It was too much.
Why had I come over here anyway? I hadn’t thought it would be easy. But I’d thought it was necessary. Get this over with and out of the way. Then maybe we could all start to move on. But now, it felt impossible.
He knew I was Olivia. He’d read the book. And he hadn’t concluded that I hated him at all. He’d concluded that…I loved him. Fuck…he was right. I’d loved him so much that I wasn’t able to do anything else for weeks. Just write cathartically into the void until the book was finished. Then I’d been dead. For weeks…months. Amy hadn’t even been able to get me out of the house. I’d sent him away, but he hadn’t left my heart.