Beneath the Scars

My hands shook as I slipped the knot open and took out my book. My eyes widened as I took in its condition. Long slashing strokes of a felt pen, scribbled notes and comments covered the pages with Jared’s attempts to make is his own. Luckily, I could still read my own words, at least most of them. The fact he had touched them, desecrated the pages with his words, made me even more nauseous. I vowed to rewrite the book in its entirety, and burn this copy. I wanted no reminder of him.

“Ms. Greene,” Mr. Dunn, one of the owners of the publishing house, addressed me directly. I looked up, feeling dazed and confused. “My partners and I would be interested in discussing your book with you at another time, when this has all been resolved—if you’d be open to the idea?” He cleared his throat. “We read through the original draft and felt it was even better than the one Jared had submitted. We’d like to work with you in the future, if you’re willing.”

I glanced at Bill, unsure what to say or even think. He nodded. “I’ll discuss it with my client and we’ll get back to you.”

I flipped through the rest of the documents grateful Jared hadn’t touched my drawings and obviously ignored all my notes. I could recreate this—make it mine again. A small flutter of excitement bloomed in my chest—a purpose, something I could work on and could be part of my future. I had options. I spoke up. “We’ll get back to you soon.”

Heads nodded, smiles were offered my way, and I lowered my head, concentrating on the papers in front of me.

Unbidden, thoughts of Zachary entered my mind. Would he ever know all this happened? Would he realize how wrong he had been? How would he feel if he found out everything Jared did was a lie, and I had loved him? That what we had was real? Would he contact me? Where was he? I closed my eyes at the burst of pain that erupted in my chest.

No second chances.

I had to remember that.* * *Bill came back to Karen’s place with me, and I let him fill them in on the meeting. He explained more of the legal ramifications Jared would be facing and answered some other questions we all had about the whole situation. He quietly informed me he would be happy to help me proceed with the book once it was ready. He assured me I’d have good council from the firm where he worked, since this wasn’t really his specialty.

“I still can’t pay anything,” I reminded him.

He laughed. “With all the press this is getting, my firm would be thrilled to help you, Megan. In fact, my boss insists on it.” He winked at me. “This might fast track my way into partnership.”

We all chuckled with him, knowing he was trying to lighten up the moment.

“You may want to think about submitting this to other publishers as well, Megan. There’s so much media attention around Jared and the stolen manuscripts, plus what he tried to do to yours, I’m sure your book would be given serious consideration now. You don’t have to use the publishers that once rallied against you.”

I nodded, mulling it over. They had only done what they thought was right and backed up their own author. They had no reason to believe Jared had been telling anything less than the truth—but maybe another publisher would be a good idea. Finally I spoke up. “I’ll think about it, Bill. I’m not rushing into anything right now.”

“Good idea.” He stood up. “I have to go. I’ll be in touch.” He laid his hand on my shoulder. “The worst is over, Megan. You can move on, now.”

Chris also stood up, announcing he had to get to the office. I curled into the corner of the sofa, dragging a blanket over my lap. I was constantly cold. Thoughts of the day swirled in my head as I stared at the satchel on the table. Move on, Bill said. Was I ready to move on now?

Karen’s voice broke through my musings as she handed me a cup of herbal tea. “Are you okay, Megan? You look so tired and worn-out.”

“It’s been a lot to take in,” I answered, sipping the warm beverage. “I haven’t slept well the past couple nights.”

She frowned. “It’s more than a couple missed nights. You look positively exhausted. You’re hardly eating, and I hear you throwing up all the time.”

I shrugged, struggling not to cry at her words. “Nerves. It’ll get better now.”

“No, it’s more,” she insisted. “You’re killing yourself.”

“I’m doing the best I can,” I whispered as the tears broke through.

She wrapped her hands around my cold ones. “I know, sweetie, but I think you need to see a doctor. It’s more than a broken heart.” She squeezed my hands, frowning. “You can barely keep water down. I’m worried. Please let me make an appointment with your doctor.”