Because there was no way Fred was right. He was not in love with Serena. Sure, he thought she was great. And she had opened his eyes to a life without June, but did that constitute love?
* * *
Erase. Erase. Erase.
Serena sat at her desk trying to work on her rom-com screenplay but nothing she wrote was the least bit entertaining. Her heroines were snappy and her heroes were being mulish. It was a disaster.
Her muse was on strike.
And worse yet, her heart was broken. Splintered into a million painful shards.
What had she been doing letting herself get so close to a man who was obviously still in love with his late wife? She should have gotten the hint by the amount of times he’d mentioned June—the love of his life.
And then there was the leaked video. Now that she’d calmed down, she realized it wasn’t the disaster she’d originally imagined. Her agent had sent a follow-up email letting her know that there had been numerous read requests for her script.
Jackson may not love her—it had been written all over his face when he’d read the note she’d given him for Christmas. And then he’d tried to gently wiggle out of the idea of them continuing their relationship when they returned to the States.
Even so. He never struck her as a liar or a man who went back on his word. She’d been in the industry long enough to know there were a hundred and one different opportunities to leak a video to the public—
Serena drew her thoughts up short. What was wrong with her? Why was she making excuses for him?
Because whether she wanted to admit it or not, she couldn’t hate a man for loving his late wife. It wasn’t his fault that someone had laid claim to his heart before Serena had met him.
And perhaps she’d read more into things than she should have. There appeared to be plenty of blame to go around. She thought of talking to him—of setting things straight—but she didn’t have his phone number. And at this point, she was probably the last person that he’d want to speak to.
Maybe a year or two from now, when this evening was a distant memory, she’d bump into him during one of her business trips to New York. It would be awkward at first, but perhaps they could get coffee. Maybe they could find their way back to being friends.
A tear splashed onto her cheek. Gizmo rushed over and settled on her lap. Her hand automatically stroked his back, but all she could think about was Jackson and how friendship with him would never be enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY
HE LOVED HER.
He loved her laugh, her smile, and her so-so cooking.
He loved everything about her.
Jackson had thought about nothing else since Serena had tossed him out of her life. And though he hated to admit it, his agent was right. His reaction where she was concerned was way over the top. If that interview had been with anyone else, he would have dealt with it in a more businesslike, more restrained manner. But this interviewee was so much more than a pretty face—she was a breath of fresh air in his otherwise stale life.
And because he’d been too busy trying to impress her, he hadn’t slowed down long enough to think about how letting her interview out of his possession could end up being a mess. Jackson paced back and forth in his rented room in the village. He raked his fingers through his hair.
He’d made a gigantic mess of everything. But he refused to give up hope on rectifying his relationship with Serena. After all, wasn’t Christmas the season of hope and forgiveness?
He loved Serena Mae Winston.
Not the Hollywood star.
Not the up-and-coming screenplay writer.
But he loved the woman who struggled to cook pasta, who was brave enough to climb in a wrecked car to save a total stranger and who didn’t take any gruff from a less than stellar patient.
He grabbed his phone but then realized that he didn’t have her phone number. He swore under his breath. What had he been thinking? He should have gotten it a long time ago. Wasn’t that one of the first things guys asked for when they were trying to pick up women? It just went to show how long he’d been out of the dating world.
Left with few options, he started typing her a brief email. He had no idea if she would even open it, but he had to try. His thumbs started moving rapidly over the screen of his phone.
Mae. Yes, that’s the name of the woman who first caught my attention. It’s the name of the person I’ve come to admire and care a lot about—more than I realized until now.
I guess it’s true what they say about not realizing what you’ve got until it’s gone. I made a HUGE mistake and for that I apologize. I wish I could undo so many things, but I can’t.