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Chapters (45)
  1. Contents
  2. Dedication
  3. Author's Note
  4. Chapter 1
  5. Chapter 2
  6. Chapter 3
  7. Chapter 4
  8. Chapter 5
  9. Chapter 6
  10. Chapter 7
  11. Chapter 8
  12. Chapter 9
  13. Chapter 10
  14. Chapter 11
  15. Chapter 12
  16. Chapter 13
  17. Chapter 14
  18. Chapter 15
  19. Chapter 16
  20. Chapter 17
  21. Chapter 18
  22. Chapter 19
  23. Chapter 20
  24. Chapter 21
  25. Chapter 22
  26. Chapter 23
  27. Chapter 24
  28. Chapter 25
  29. Chapter 26
  30. Chapter 27
  31. Chapter 28
  32. Chapter 29
  33. Chapter 30
  34. Chapter 31
  35. Chapter 32
  36. Chapter 33
  37. Chapter 34
  38. Chapter 35
  39. Chapter 36
  40. Chapter 37
  41. Chapter 38
  42. Epilogue
  43. Acknowledgments
  44. About the Author
  45. Also By Allie Samberts

Of course. Moving on. That’s the ultimate goal, right? To let bygones be bygones. What good would dredging it up do? It would only hurt him, and my goal isn’t to break him like I was broken. I wouldn’t even wish that on the villains of my stories.

“Yes,” I say with forced cheerfulness. “Apology accepted. We’re good, Ryan.”

He looks at me for a little longer, some emotion in his eyes I can’t quite name. Then, with a curt nod, he turns and leaves.

Almost immediately after the door shuts behind him, I look at the portfolio he left on the table. I glance between that and the elimination round of my holiday baking show. Ultimately, I turn the television off and dive into Ryan’s notes.

I give myself over to the words. I always do.

Chapter 8

Scarlett

Seven Years Ago

“All hail Queen Scarlett!” my three best friends exclaim in unison before we all toss back a shot of some kind of cheap liquor. I hiss through my teeth as it burns all the way down and then lingers.

“Pretty sure that took a layer off my esophagus.” I grimace.

Ava slams her shot glass down on the bar and pats me on the back. “We need to toughen you up.” She catches the bartender’s eye. “Another round!”

“No!” I hold my hands out in protest. I’m still barely able to talk over the burning. “I can’t be hungover tomorrow. I have to write.”

“You don’t have to do anything tomorrow, Miss I-Signed-a-Two-Book-Deal,” Katherine says.

“They’re eventually going to need that second book,” I remind them.

“Yeah, eventually. You signed the deal. The check cleared. And only a week after graduation, too. You don’t even have to try to find some shitty coffee-shop job like the rest of us,” Mandy adds. “Take one night to have fun with your friends. We’re celebrating you!”

Mandy, Ava, Katherine, and I graduated from our various graduate programs a few weeks ago and decided to make the move to Chicago to pursue our careers. New York would’ve been closer to the heart of the publishing industry for me, but the great thing about writing is you can really do it from anywhere. Not to mention that Chicago has three things New York doesn’t, and I’m currently watching them all do another round of shots.