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Chapters (64)
  1. Book Description
  2. About Kennedy Ryan
  3. Also from Kennedy Ryan
  4. Acknowledgments from the Author
  5. Book Description
  6. Dedication
  7. Prologue
  8. Part One
  9. Chapter One
  10. Chapter Two
  11. Chapter Three
  12. Chapter Four
  13. Chapter Five
  14. Chapter Six
  15. Chapter Seven
  16. Part Two
  17. Chapter Eight
  18. Chapter Nine
  19. Chapter Ten
  20. Chapter Eleven
  21. Chapter Twelve
  22. Chapter Thirteen
  23. Chapter Fourteen
  24. Chapter Fifteen
  25. Chapter Sixteen
  26. Chapter Seventeen
  27. Chapter Eighteen
  28. Chapter Nineteen
  29. Chapter Twenty
  30. Chapter Twenty-One
  31. Chapter Twenty-Two
  32. Chapter Twenty-Three
  33. Chapter Twenty-Four
  34. Chapter Twenty-Five
  35. Chapter Twenty-Six
  36. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  37. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  38. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  39. Chapter Thirty
  40. Chapter Thirty-One
  41. Chapter Thirty-Two
  42. Chapter Thirty-Three
  43. Chapter Thirty-Four
  44. Chapter Thirty-Five
  45. Chapter Thirty-Six
  46. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  47. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  48. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  49. Chapter Forty
  50. Chapter Forty-One
  51. Chapter Forty-Two
  52. Chapter Forty-Three
  53. Chapter Forty-Four
  54. Chapter Forty-Five
  55. Chapter Forty-Six
  56. Chapter Forty-Seven
  57. Chapter Forty-Eight
  58. Chapter Forty-Nine
  59. Epilogue
  60. Author’s Note
  61. An excerpt from The Kingmaker by Kennedy Ryan
  62. Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Seven
  63. Discover the World of 1001 Dark Nights
  64. Special Thanks

In synagogue, we’d whisper the Baruch Shem because it’s part of a prayer reserved for angels considered pure, a blessing we’re not worthy to offer to God. That’s how I tell Kimba I love her because I don’t deserve her—don’t have any right to ask her to wade into this morass of my life, but I’m begging her to.

“I love you, too,” she whispers back, tears running unchecked down her face and her voice hiccupping on a broken breath. “I don’t know what will happen, but I know you are the love of my life, Ezra Stern, and I’ll never feel this way again.”

“Promise?” I ask, brushing my thumb across her lips.

Her smile is sad, but I’ll settle for it for now, like all the other things I have to settle for…for now. “I’ll do better than a promise.”

She hooks our pinky fingers together. “Pact.”

I chuckle through the lump in my throat. “Pact.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Seven

Kimba

We lost.

I read the text message a second time. A third, letting the words toll in my head like a church bell.

Felita:  Should I call? You want the details of the vote?

I glance around the depressing hotel room with the dated décor in the Alabama town where I’m sleeping tonight. I have a meeting with a local voting rights organization tomorrow morning. How am I supposed to inspire, encourage them when the very legislation that could destroy their efforts just passed?

Me:  No. I’ll call you in an hour. I need to eat.

The overcooked chicken and underseasoned vegetables, already unappetizing, hold even less appeal now, but I’ve only eaten a bagel today. The better I eat— whole grains, fresh vegetables, avoiding processed foods—the better my chances of freezing quality eggs and maybe having a baby when I’m ready. I glare at the little bag that holds my syringe and medication for the injection I have to give myself. I’m good at a lot of things. Apparently giving myself a hormone shot isn’t one of them.

It’s so easy, the nurse said.

Anyone can do it, she said.

But I hate needles and sticking one in my hip is the last thing I want to do.

I strip off my dress and toss on yoga pants. I’m sifting through my overnight bag, looking for a top to wear, when Ezra’s scent hits me. A corner of red cotton peeks out from beneath my toiletries.

His YLA T-shirt.