“Good grief, you sound terrible. Meet me at the coffee shop. I’m between jobs.”

  “I can’t. I’m almost two weeks behind schedule and I’m stuck.”

  “Come on, you have got to get out of that dingy apartment for a few hours. You’ve been chained to that desk for four straight weeks. A little daylight and human contact might inspire you.”

  “My hair’s dirty and I’m still in pajamas.”

  “It’s three o’clock! And you’re only proving my point. Throw your hair up in a bun and put on some real clothes. Better yet—take a quick shower. Thirty minutes. I’m not accepting no for an answer.”

  And just like that Caroline hung up.

  Sadie sighed. “Fine.” So she was a little depressed. And stressed. Who could blame her? The deadline was creeping up on her, and she had no idea how to work this story out. It was so much easier with westerns—the protagonist fought the antagonist and won. Easy-peasy. Maybe a little distance from the story would help. Sitting here staring out at the construction site sure wasn’t doing any good.

  Thirty minutes later Sadie neared the coffee shop. She’d put her damp hair up in a bun, and she was feeling a little better. The sun was even trying to peek out. Somewhere between South Carolina and Queens, she seemed to have lost her optimism. She needed to stop thinking about Sam and her story for two seconds and just enjoy the day. Enjoy her time with Caroline. Enjoy all the lovely people around her.

  She reached the door at the same time as two male teenagers. She gave them a wide smile and opened it for them. “After you, gentlemen.”

  They barely glanced her way as they slipped inside and made a beeline for the barista.

  Okay . . . Sadie swept her gaze over the interior, searching for her friend. But Caroline hadn’t arrived yet, so she got in line behind the teens. When it was her turn she placed her and Caroline’s drink orders.

  “Looks like it’s trying to sun up out there,” Sadie said to the thirtysomething woman ringing up her order. “At least it’s not raining, huh? It was so dreary yesterday.”

  “That’ll be nine seventy.”

  Sadie used her phone to pay, making sure to leave a nice tip. “Long day? I get it. I’ve been typing so hard my fingers have calluses. I’m writing a novel.”

  “Want your receipt?”

  “Um, no, that’s okay.”

  She headed toward the pickup counter. She was starting to miss more than Sam and the beach. She hadn’t had a decent stranger-chat since she’d come home. Had people in her neighborhood always been so unfriendly? Didn’t anyone around here have the time or inclination to shoot the breeze? She barely had to nod her head on Tucker Island and soon they were talking about the weather, books, or the economy.

  “Well, lookee there.” Caroline came up beside Sadie and squeezed her shoulders. “You can come out in the daylight.”

  “I’m not a vampire.”

  “I was starting to wonder. I haven’t seen you in two weeks.”

  “I haven’t seen anyone except my characters, and they’re miserable company right now. I ordered you a lavender tea with a dash of cream.”

  “Perfect, thank you. I assume you got yourself something with plenty of caffeine.”

  “I’ll need it if I have any hope of finishing this story on time.”

  When their order came up they took their drinks and settled at a table in the back corner.

  “It has to be hard,” Caroline said, “drafting a story about characters who are essentially you and Sam. I’d ask if the writing has been therapeutic or just heart-wrenching, but judging by your expression I think I can guess.”

  Sadie took a sip of her Americano. “If this is what therapy feels like, count me out. So far it’s only made me miss him more. He was so kind and generous and loving. He’s everything I ever wanted in a man, Caro.”

  “I’m sorry, honey. I wish I could make it better.”

  “Me too.” Her characters were now broken up, and Sadie didn’t know how she was going to put it all back together. It was a romance novel—a happily ever after was a requirement. Sadly, that was not the case in real life.

  She took another drink, hoping to dislodge the lump swelling in her throat. Her chest ached all the time. And if she wasn’t actually crying, she felt like it.

  She turned a beseeching look on Caroline. “It hurts so much. I’ve never experienced anything like this. What if it never gets better? Because it doesn’t feel like it will. What if I just have to feel like this the rest of my life?” She blinked back tears.

  Caroline covered her hand. “Oh, honey, you won’t. I know it hurts, but I promise it will get better. Remember how much I loved Eric Dugan in college? Two years together. When we broke up I thought I would shatter.”

  “I remember.” Her friend had fallen apart for a while. Missed some classes, bombed a test or two. “How long was it until you started feeling better?”

  “I don’t know. It happened gradually. It sure didn’t help that we shared a class that semester. But the bottom line is, you will start feeling better. And someday you’ll meet your own Carlos, and you’ll be grateful it worked out this way.”

  She found that hard to believe. At the moment it was taking everything she had not to dissolve into a puddle of tears. She swallowed hard. “Can we talk about something else? I’m so tired of wallowing in misery. Tired of thinking.”

  “Of course. What do you want to talk about? My adorable doggie, my mother’s new career opportunity, or your plans for the upcoming school year? See how I made it multiple choice for you?”

  “Very kind. What’s going on with your mom?”

  “Well, you know she was thinking of retiring and eventually moving to Tucker Island, but the owner of the realty office where she works offered to sell her the company.”

  “Oh, wow, that’s huge.”

  “She has the funds to buy her out, and it seems to have reignited her enthusiasm in her career.”

  “She’s awfully young to retire. You think she’s going to buy it?”

  “I think she might. I have to admit, I don’t love the idea of her moving to South Carolina.”

  “You’ve always been so close.”

  “I’d be happy to keep her here for another ten years or so. How are your parents doing, by the way?”

  “They’re still separated but Mom’s been seeing a therapist, so that’s good.”

  “Oh, that’s great. That’s new, isn’t it?”

  “It is. She’s always been resistant before, but I think she’s finally tired of the roller-coaster ride. I know Dad is. He’s thinking about going to counseling with her, so that’s something.”

  “That would be great for both of them. Maybe they can finally build a healthier relationship.”

  “That’s the hope. Better late than never.” How ironic that her parents were finally getting their relationship on track just as Sadie’s had fallen apart. Maybe love was more complicated than she’d imagined. Maybe it involved more effort than she’d ever realized.

  They paused as a car went by, its bass thumping loudly.

  Caroline sipped her tea. “Wanna brainstorm your story a little? I’m no writer, but I’ve read my share of romances.”

  “It couldn’t hurt, I guess. My hero and heroine are in love but have broken up because her life is in the city—Chicago—and his is on St. Lucia. I can’t decide how to resolve the geographical problem.”

  “She should definitely move to St. Lucia.”

  Sadie gave her a droll grin. “It’s not that simple. The city is her dream—it’s who she is. I can’t make her give up a part of herself for some man. That’s so 1950s.”

  “You make a good point. And why can’t your hero just move to the city to be with his one and only?”

  “He owns a boat-charter business on the island, one he’s built from the ground up.”

  “I guess they are in a tricky spot. But there has to be compromise with any relationship. If they’re going to be together, someone has to make the sacrifice.”

  “But does it have to be the heroine?”

  “Not necessarily. If Carlos had a big opportunity in another state and it meant a lot to him, I’d move for him—and I know he’d do the same for me. So maybe your hero and heroine are both willing to move.” Caroline paused, tilted her head. Her gaze sharpened on Sadie’s. “Are we still talking about your characters?”

  Sadie blinked. She’d thought they were. “That point is moot. Sam and I never even got around to discussing where we might live. I never even told him I—”

  “That you love him?” Caroline asked softly.

  “I never told him and he certainly never told me.”

  “Well, just for the record, you did a lot of dreaming in college about living in the Big Apple . . . but from what I can see, you don’t love city life all that much.”

  “What? What are you talking about? I love the city. The energy, the excitement, the opportunities.”

  “Those are clichés. And anyway, you never talk about those things.”

  Sadie frowned. “Yes, I do.”

  “No, you don’t. You talk about the noisy traffic and the difficulty getting around town. You talk about the outrageous expense of rent and the lack of space for children to play. And you’re an optimist! Sometimes I wonder why you were so stoked to settle here after college. Not that I’m complaining—I love having you close by.”

  She wanted to refute what Caroline said. But she stopped herself. Was that true? She did hate paying so much for a tiny apartment she had to share. As far as opportunities went, her job hardly paid enough to keep her in chocolate chip cookies. She’d had to supplement it with her writing—obituaries and now books. And yes, the traffic was a pain in the patootie.

  She thought back to her recent conversation with her mother. While Sadie had been growing up, Mom talked about Manhattan as if it were heaven on earth. But their recent chat had set her straight. Her mom was simply nostalgic about that time of her life.

  She’d thought her mother had given up her dream. Had Sadie taken up that aspiration for herself as some sort of lame proxy? Was she living out someone else’s dream? “My mom talked about Manhattan with such reverence. I guess maybe I started . . .”

  “Viewing it through rose-colored glasses?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I kind of thought that when we talked about it in college. I mean, I love NYC, don’t get me wrong. It’s home. But even I can see the drawbacks. And you never really struck me as a city person.”

  Sadie gaped at Caroline. “Really?”

  “You always reminisced about your grandpa’s ranch like it was the best place on earth. And you’re awfully frugal—I see how much it pains you to pay so much for rent. Plus you like to strike up conversations with random strangers. Whenever you do that here, people think you’re a freak.”

  Sadie gave a wry chuckle. “I’m more like a southerner in that way, I guess. I had so many conversations down there with random people, you wouldn’t believe it.” She smiled just thinking of Nick and Anna, Jared and Roscoe, and Keisha, whose friendship had grown from a random conversation about books. “There’s a laid-back vibe down there. People aren’t in such a rush. And the beach is so nice. It’s quiet and peaceful in the morning, but it comes alive as the sun gets higher in the sky, and then there are people walking and sunbathing and—”

  “I was there, remember? I totally get the appeal.” Caroline tilted her head as she gazed at Sadie. “You’ll never get those things in New York, you know. And you won’t find Sam here either.”

  Sadie straightened in her seat. Pointed a finger at her friend. “Don’t. Don’t do that. He broke up with me. This was his choice.”

  “Maybe he made a rash decision. Maybe he didn’t realize you love him. Maybe there’s a reason you can’t forget him.”

  Hope dangled a rope down the deep canyon into which she’d fallen. But fear kept her from grabbing hold. Her adrenaline spiked, making her want to flee instead. “That’s a lot of maybes. When he found out about my story, Sam couldn’t get out of there fast enough. And what, are you trying to get rid of me? You’re making me feel unwanted.”

  “You know better than that. I just want what’s best for you.”

  If only Sadie could figure out what that was.

  Today was the day. Sadie’s tight shoulder muscles complained as she sat down to her desk after only six hours of sleep. She’d done nothing but work, eat, and sleep since she’d met with Caroline six days ago. The conversation had loosened something in her. She’d figured out how to make the logistics work for her couple. It seemed so obvious now.

  She had to write her heroine’s epiphany, then the couple’s happily ever after, because she had to finish this manuscript today. With school starting Monday there would be no time for rewrites. She’d already let Erin know she’d be receiving a first draft, and she seemed okay with that.

  Sadie took three deep breaths. Stress was not her friend. Outside her bedroom window the day was gloomy and overcast, but no rain had fallen yet. She missed the sunny beach and all its delightful smells and sounds.

  Enough of that. The clock is ticking.

  She glanced back at the screen where a new chapter would begin. She’d somehow made it all the way through the story, from the wedding to the breakup. Her heroine was officially as miserable as Sadie was. At least she’d been able to write the character’s pain with total clarity. Because now Sadie not only knew how it felt to fall in love—she also knew what it felt like to lose that love.

  The cursor blinked on the blank page. Her heroine needed an epiphany, and Sadie had no idea what it would look like. Stalling for time, and perhaps avoiding the building anxiety, she opened her Facebook newsfeed and scrolled. Maybe she’d find some insight. It was a lie she told herself sometimes.

  When she’d been on the island, she friended Sam on social media, so now she saw his occasional posts. A photo of him eating out someplace with Tag. A picture of Hayley pitching a game, the two of them afterward. She searched his face in the photos and read every word he wrote several times as if this made her a part of his life and not a stalker.

  Pathetic. She should probably hide his posts and stop tormenting herself. But then she’d never know what he was doing or who he was hanging out with, and somehow that seemed even worse than knowing.

  She glanced at the time. She was losing minutes and stalling wasn’t putting words on the page. She opened her document again, feeling lost. Sometimes if she just started typing, the words came. She placed her fingers on the keyboard and began the chapter.

  After a couple of faulty starts, the words finally began to flow. Her heroine had reached the end of her rope just as Sadie had. She had inner issues to deal with just as Sadie did. Things that kept her single and searching even though deep down she wanted to love and be loved—didn’t everybody? Sadie followed the thought on the page, digging deeper, fingers flying. Page after page.

  Yes, this was it. Her soul let loose a sigh of relief. This was right for the story.

  Her heroine desperately wanted love, but she didn’t want to end up like her parents, married and miserable. So she pushed men away. She found fault with each potential suitor. She ended things before they could even begin. She ran away. She sabotaged relationships—including the one she’d had with the hero.

  Sadie’s fingers stopped cold on the keyboard. Her gaze flew back to the last paragraph. A shiver lifted the hairs on her arms.

  That was her.

  Sadie found fault with every man she’d dated.

  Sadie ended things before they’d even begun.

  Sadie sabotaged relationships.

  Her breath felt caught in her chest. How had she not seen this before? She’d been attracted to Sam right away and she’d bonded with him soon after. But she held him at a distance. Even after realizing she loved him at the wedding, she wanted to run away from the feelings. But Amanda’s words had left her shaken. Her admiration for Sam grew by leaps during that conversation. And then she kissed him impulsively.

  And what a kiss it was.

  Even then she would’ve run from her feelings. It was only this darned book that made her push through in spite of her fear. Her desperation drove her toward a story solution—and a real relationship with Sam.

  She could now see all the ways fear had driven her behavior.

  She’d withheld from Sam that she was borrowing their real-life story for her book. Sabotage. And when he’d broken up with her, she hardly tried to convince him to give her another chance. Not because they lived in separate states—but because she was so afraid to give her heart away. She’d run away.

  Far, far away.

  Because what if the relationship turned out like her parents’? What if she had to live with that uncertainty again? Sadie’s heart thumped like a bass drum in her chest. Her heroine wasn’t the only one who’d just had an epiphany.

  Rather than stop and sort out her thoughts, she used the momentum to carry her through. She didn’t pause until lunchtime when she finished the happily-ever-after chapter. Only the epilogue to go now, and she needed to get it just right. She gulped down a sandwich and went back to work.

  She wrote feverishly through the afternoon, losing track of time as the ending played out on the page. She’d already tied up the loose threads of the subplots, but she included newsy details of life several months out from the previous chapter.

  Throughout the afternoon an idea formed in the back of her mind. It grew stronger and stronger, pushing her toward the end. Rather than envisioning Erin’s opinion of the story, she began to imagine Sam’s. Because, yes, she wanted him to read it. She wanted him to see what she’d only just discovered about herself. She wanted him to know that she loved him.

  More than that—she wanted to tell him in person. Before, she’d been too afraid to fight for their relationship. Truth be told, she was still scared to death. Her trembling fingers made that clear enough. But this time she was going to push through the feeling.

  Because Sam was worth it.

  Forty