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Back The Companion Project
Chapters (89)
  1. Dedication
  2. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  3. ONE
  4. HENRY
  5. TWO
  6. EMMA
  7. THREE
  8. HENRY
  9. FOUR
  10. EMMA
  11. FIVE
  12. EMMA
  13. SIX
  14. SEVEN
  15. HENRY
  16. EIGHT
  17. NINE
  18. TEN
  19. HENRY
  20. ELEVEN
  21. TWELVE
  22. EMMA
  23. THIRTEEN
  24. HENRY
  25. FOURTEEN
  26. HENRY
  27. FIFTEEN
  28. SIXTEEN
  29. EMMA
  30. SEVENTEEN
  31. HENRY
  32. EIGHTEEN
  33. HENRY
  34. NINETEEN
  35. HENRY
  36. TWENTY
  37. TWENTY-ONE
  38. EMMA
  39. TWENTY-TWO
  40. EMMA
  41. TWENTY-THREE
  42. HENRY
  43. TWENTY-FOUR
  44. EMMA
  45. TWENTY-FIVE
  46. EMMA
  47. TWENTY-SIX
  48. EMMA
  49. TWENTY-SEVEN
  50. HENRY
  51. TWENTY-EIGHT
  52. EMMA
  53. TWENTY-NINE
  54. HENRY
  55. THIRTY
  56. HENRY
  57. THIRTY-ONE
  58. HENRY
  59. THIRTY-TWO
  60. EMMA
  61. THIRTY-THREE
  62. HENRY
  63. THIRTY-FOUR
  64. EMMA
  65. THIRTY-FIVE
  66. EMMA
  67. THIRTY-SIX
  68. HENRY
  69. THIRTY-SEVEN
  70. EMMA
  71. THIRTY-EIGHT
  72. HENRY
  73. THIRTY-NINE
  74. HENRY
  75. FORTY
  76. EMMA
  77. FORTY-ONE
  78. HENRY
  79. FORTY-TWO
  80. FORTY-THREE
  81. EMMA
  82. FORTY-FOUR
  83. EMMA
  84. FORTY-FIVE
  85. HENRY
  86. EPILOGUE
  87. ALSO BY CHELSEA CURTO
  88. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  89. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

“I’m going into this blind and it’s really scary. There’s a connection here, at least on my end, and I’m excited to see if it’s reciprocated.”

“Has she given you any signs that it isn’t?”

“Nah. I don’t want to get my hopes up, you know? I’m literally counting down the hours. The minutes. The seconds. I pick up my phone, stare at the clock, and do the mental math until Sunday. And I hate these fucking feelings. She’s all I can think about. I don’t care what she looks like or what her voice sounds like. She can be short or tall, skinny or curvy, and I won’t care. The only thing I do care about is finally seeing her, and hoping that when I do, everything makes sense.”

“What kind of feelings?” Patrick asks.

“I’m discombobulated. My brain isn’t processing anything but her, and I don’t know what the fuck it all means.”

“What else?” Jack encourages me, goading me to keep talking.

“My chest aches when I go all day without hearing from her, anxiously wondering if I did or said something wrong. And when my goddamn screen lights up and I see her name there? Everything is right in the world. I’m calm. Peaceful. Steady. I fall asleep thinking about her and I wake up excited to hear from her again—a vicious, wonderful cycle that can’t be broken. I’d build a rocket ship, fly to outer space, and find a way to give her a corner of the fucking sun if she asked for it, not batting an eye at the burns I’d earn. I’m the biggest idiot because this shit isn’t me. This isn’t what I do. I fuck then I leave. Yet for some unexplained, stupid reason, it’s what I want to do with her, and it’s driving me insane.”

“Henry,” Jack starts. “You are not an idiot. Get that shit out of your head. You’re looking at four men who have all been tortured and broken by a woman at some point in our lives. I was stupid every time I talked to Jo. I felt like a loser for even daring to think about her in something other than a coworker capacity. I thought I was a fraud for imagining she would want anything to do with fucked up, asshole me. The bright, shining princess settling down with the messed up guy who carried all sorts of baggage? No way in hell. Every day was fucking agony.”