I raise a trembling hand to knock. Footsteps approach and my lungs constrict, trapping my breath. Butterflies thrash in my stomach, making me feel sick. The doorknob twists and the door swings open and my heart leaps into my throat.
Michael’s eyes meet mine. “Alex…” Concern wrinkles his brow. “Are you okay?”
What? Oh God, I must look an absolute mess. I’ve been crying since Natalie’s office and my eyes are probably puffy and red. My mascara will be in train-tracks down my face.
What the hell am I doing? This is not how one is supposed to look when knocking on an estranged lover’s doorstep in order to win them back.
“Uh, um… I was just in the neighborhood.” I try to give him a smile, but it turns into more of a grimace.
He folds his arms across his chest, cocking his head to one side. I search his face for a hint of a smile, for some sign of happiness at my being here, but there isn’t one.
“How’ve you been?” I try again, desperate for the awkwardness to dissipate. It’s like a thick wall between us and I can’t get to the other side, I can’t get to the real Michael.
He shrugs, shifting his weight.
I press my lips together into a line, feeling a swell of misery. He doesn’t want to see me. He told me his life was complicated, and here I am, adding more stress. I let my gaze slide away. What am I even doing here?
“Alex—”
My eyes flit back to him, but he’s just staring at the floor, rubbing his jaw in thought. And I decide that whatever I do, I’m at least going to share my good news with him.
“I, um, met with a literary agent about my romance novel. They want to represent me.”
A smile touches his mouth. “That’s… that’s fantastic news.”
“Yes. So thank you for your encouragement and support with that.”
He looks down at his hands, sighing.
I swallow hard against the lump in my throat. I almost can’t breathe, this hurts so much. The ache in my heart is expanding, pressing against the edges of me and threatening to burst out. I can feel my chest rising and falling with my jagged breaths, my pulse throbbing in my ears. I need to get these words out—to know I tried.
“I miss you,” I blurt.
His gaze lifts to mine and he studies me, silent.
“I can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about you. Everything feels empty. I never meant to mess you around.” I blink against rising tears, searching for the words I need. “At Strand you told me to be optimistic, to believe in love, and I wanted to. But now I can see I was still fighting it. I was scared—scared that my parents were right about me dreaming too much, scared that I’d never get to have the thing I wanted more than anything. Scared that maybe… maybe I didn’t deserve it.”
There’s a glimmer of compassion in his eyes and that gives me the courage I need to continue.
“But I realized it’s a choice. I can either deny the part of me that wants those things—I can deny who I am—or I can embrace it. And I’m choosing to embrace it. Because you, Michael… you made me believe in myself. You made me believe in love. And…” I wipe at my cheek as a tear escapes, determined to speak the truth, to tell him the thing I should have told him at the cabin, long ago. “I love you.”
I hold my breath, waiting for his response, but the silence stretches between us. It feels like an eternity so I speak again, desperately wishing he would tell me what I need to hear. “I don’t know if you’re still interested in me…?” Despite myself, I gaze at him hopefully.
His eyes dart over my face, then he shakes his head. “I’m not.”
Despair washes over me, filling my eyes. Of course he’s not. I’m on his doorstep babbling incoherently, my eyes puffy and my cheeks smeared with tears.
But I know it’s not really that. I let him down. He’s been hurt before and he won’t be with someone who hurt him again—who just makes his life harder. I couldn’t be the woman he needed me to be.
I glance at my hands as a tear slides down my cheek. I’ll never forgive myself for ruining this.
“I’m not interested in you, Alex,” he says, closing the gap between us. “I’m in love with you.”
My eyes fly up in surprise to find a little smile forming on his lips. Then before I know what is happening, he slips his arms around me and pulls me close.
“You are?” I whisper.
He reaches a finger up to wipe my tears away, but more just spill down in their place. Only this time, they’re happy tears.
“Yes. I’m so in love with you, beautiful girl. I think…” He shakes his head, his eyes gleaming. “I think I have been ever since you kissed me in the poetry aisle at Strand.”
I gaze up at him, breathless as his words sink in. “Me too,” I say with a disbelieving smile.
“These past couple weeks have been torture. I thought that when I came to see you at the bookstore, you might, I don’t know, reconsider. But you were so distant. I thought I’d lost you forever.”
“But—” I frown, confused. “At the bookstore, you didn’t say anything...”
“I know. I just… I didn’t want to push you.”
I nod, thinking back to what he said. “You said your life is complicated, and I don’t want to add to that. But—”
“What?” His brows pull together. “You don’t add to
