“All of it, Nas,” I answer. “You wrote our entire relationship from the moment we met up until I left. Aria even leaves Nixon standing in his office the same way I did, and Nixon ends up heartbroken and alone.”

“I gave that manuscript to Keisha three days ago,” Nas says, avoiding the question. “If you received it last night, how could you have gotten to the ending already?”

“I stayed up all night and read the entire thing. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. It’s the most beautiful, agonizing thing you’ve ever written, Nas, but that’s not what I’m here to say. I want to know if it’s true. I learned the hard way that you write yourself into all of your stories, and I want to know if you did it with this one. Or is this just some ruse to lure me back here? I want to know if you really felt the way you portrayed Nixon.”

Nas’s eyes falter, finally breaking eye contact to look at the floor. “I’m not good at saying everything out loud, so I write to get it all out. I think it’s obvious that Nixon and I are one and the same. He's practically nonfiction.”

“So, you’re in love with me?” I ask, startled by how fast it comes shooting out of my mouth, and my words hit Nas like bullets. He flinches, pinching his lips together like he’s bearing actual pain, before cutting his eyes up to me again.

“I love you more than I ever knew I could.”

Nas’s words wrap around me and squeeze, stealing my breath from my lungs. He said it. He actually said it out loud and with eye contact. My thoughts scatter in all directions, making it impossible to latch onto one and respond, so I just stare at him in shock.

“I’m sorry,” Nas goes on. “I know you’re pissed at me for writing another book that’s obviously about you. It’s the reason you ended things with me, but I felt like I was going to implode if I didn’t get it out. I don’t have to publish it, but I needed to get the words out before they ate me alive. I’m sorry for breaking your trust again. I didn’t think Keisha would show you. I just … I had to. I’m sorry, Alina.”

A tear glides down Nas’s face, and he quickly wipes it away like he’s mad it showed itself in my presence. He looks completely broken as he stares at the floor again, and all I want to do is hug him. I want him to know that I see his pain, and while what he did to make his career was wrong, I understand him now more than ever.