How can I fix this?
I’ve thought about his anger and why he got so mad. At first, I didn’t understand. What I wrote has always been one hundred percent up to me and the only people my choices affected were my readers. Maybe they wanted a book about a different character. Maybe they didn’t want me to switch lanes and write romantic suspense for a change. I don’t know. But this time, with this book… Hell. Hours of pouring through every possible scenario have brought me to one clear, concise, reason.
I screwed up.
Huge.
By taking from our lives, I betrayed his trust. Everyone wants a piece of him, especially since the scandal. People will be clamoring for this book knowing it is based on our love story. Which would be awesome for book sales but detrimental to my relationship. And do I really want the public at large to know how we met and fell in love? No. My family, sure. His family, definitely. Our friends? Maybe. The media…absolutely not!
Jesus, I ruined everything. What was I thinking? Was I even thinking?
I wasn’t. Just like my mother complains all the time. My head is in the clouds, having private conversations with fictional characters.
Looking at it now, I have so much to be sorry for.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes, but I’ve cried enough. Now is not the time for wallowing in my pity party for one. No, I need to take action. Grovel on my knees if I have to and win back my man. No matter what it takes.
Slipping out of bed, I take his robe from behind the bathroom door and put it on, covering my thin tank and panties. Finding his keys is easy. They hang on a hook by the door. I take the keys, then grab the flash drive I made for him. Mission driven, I go out into the empty hallway and lock the door to Jake’s apartment. Then I send up a little prayer that in his anger, Evan didn’t lock my apartment door.
Eureka! I turn the knob and push it open, being as quiet as possible. I keep my movements small as I shut and lock it behind me.
I tiptoe through my apartment, noticing nothing has changed since I left it a few days ago. God, that seems like a lifetime ago. How can so much happen in such a short space of time? A pang of sadness punches at my heart at the thought that I may end up here alone again if this doesn’t go well.
Swallowing down my sadness and fear, I make it to my bedroom. Evan is sleeping on his back on what I consider his side of the bed. His chest is bare, hair mussed, and lips just barely open. Still, I notice the furrow of his brow as though even in sleep he can’t find true rest.
My heart pics up a battering ram’s beat against my chest as I remove the robe and set it over my chair. Slinking to the other side of the bed, I pull back the covers and slide in.
Evan doesn’t stir. Not until I shimmy over to him and hook a leg over his and an arm over his belly.
“Mmm, done writing, baby?” Evan murmurs obviously not remembering what happened earlier this evening.
I sigh and snuggle in. “I love you, and I’m so sorry, Evan,” I whisper, needing him to not only know it but to feel it straight through to his bones the way I do.
His form stiffens in my arms, and my heart clenches and my throat goes dry.
He removes my arm, nudges my leg away, and sits up, pushing himself back against the headboard. Within a few seconds, my nightstand light is on and I can truly see the effect of my betrayal.
His eyes are tired and red-rimmed, dark circles underneath that weren’t there before. His expression is one of agony.
Those pesky tears come back with a vengeance as I sit up cross-legged. “I need you to let me talk.”
He shakes his head and his jaw tightens. “Sadie.”
I reach out a hand and grab onto his thigh. “Please. When you screwed up, I let you speak. If you don’t like what I’m about to say, you can kick me out of my own house.”
That has his lips twitching, but he stays silent.
I swallow, firm my spine, and look straight into his eyes. “You’re right. I messed up. Big time. At first, I didn’t even realize what I was doing. Authors take inspiration from their lives all the time.”
He moves to speak, but I press two fingers against his lips lightly and shake my head.
“It’s not an excuse and it doesn’t change the fact that I was wrong.” I sniff as twin tears fall down my cheeks. “So wrong. When you left, my heart left with you because you own it now. I gave it to you, and I don’t ever want it back.”