BooksBarbecue
Back First Comes Love
Chapters (92)
  1. First
  2. Love Connection
  3. Zero
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. One Month Later
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Six Months Later
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-one
  27. Twenty-two
  28. Twenty-three
  29. Twenty-four
  30. Six Months Later
  31. Twenty-five
  32. Twenty-six
  33. Twenty-seven
  34. Twenty-eight
  35. Twenty-nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-one
  38. Thirty-two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. I Have Never
  41. One
  42. Two
  43. Three
  44. Four
  45. Five
  46. Six
  47. Seven
  48. Eight
  49. Nine
  50. Ten
  51. Eleven
  52. Twelve
  53. Thirteen
  54. Fourteen
  55. Fifteen
  56. Sixteen
  57. Seventeen
  58. Eighteen
  59. Nineteen
  60. Twenty
  61. Twenty-one
  62. Twenty-two
  63. A Christmas Date
  64. One
  65. Two
  66. Three
  67. Four
  68. Five
  69. Six
  70. Seven
  71. Eight
  72. Nine
  73. Ten
  74. Eleven
  75. Twelve
  76. Thirteen
  77. Fourteen
  78. Fifteen
  79. Sixteen
  80. Seventeen
  81. Eighteen
  82. Nineteen
  83. Twenty
  84. Twenty-one
  85. Twenty-two
  86. Note from the Author
  87. Sneak Peek – To the Stars and Back
  88. Two
  89. Three
  90. Four
  91. Also by Camilla Isley
  92. About the Author

A dart hits my heart. Hope? Fear? Love? All three? I don’t know. But I don’t have the luxury of indulging in false expectations. Richard has made it clear where he stands. His fear comes before his feelings and that’s not going to change no matter what I do.

He’s probably just mad

We had a big argument

That’s not the face of a “mad man”

Even if he could pass for a younger Jon Hamm

Not in the mood for jokes

I wasn’t joking

The boss isn’t mad

What is he then?

Terrified

That he is for sure.

And how’s that better?

He’s terrified because he cares

Doesn’t matter if he doesn’t care

Or if he’s terrified he does care

The bottom line stays the same

We aren’t happening

Give it time

He’ll come around

Have you read the column?

No

Read the column

Whatever

Don’t you have any work to do?

All right Miss Crabby McCranky…

Talk to you later

Mon, June 12 at 9:26 AM @PinkPanther has logged off

I log off for real this time. It took all my willpower not to open that damn column over breakfast this morning, and now Indira is making my resolve crumble. I can read a column. It wouldn’t be like talking to him. It’s only words on the screen. I mean, what harm could come from it? Before I second-guess myself, I click on the magazine’s homepage and open the column.

Someone Once Told Me

by Richard Stratton

Last night I couldn’t rest. Unable to sit still in my apartment with only my thoughts as companions, I went for a walk... and I met Sally.

Sally? Another woman? A sharp pain in my chest makes me swallow as my mouth goes dry with fear. I grab my water bottle and chug a good half before I can bring my eyes back to the screen.

No, my name is not Harry, and this isn’t a romantic story.

Utter relief.

Sally is a woman in her late fifties, who has been living on the streets of Brooklyn for the better part of ten years, and who could easily pass for a seventy–year–old with her white hair and weathered features.

On a regular day, I would’ve passed Sally without even noticing her.

Not last night.

Someone once told me how easily homeless people disappear in the eyes of passers–by, almost becoming invisible. And how surprised I’d be if I stopped for a minute to hear the stories these people have to share.

So I stopped.

I asked Sally what her favorite sandwich was and what she wanted to drink. I bought a meal for both of us and we ate it together sitting on a bench in the park.

And Sally told me her story...