Page 129 of One More Chapter

“Facing your mistakes head on? I do know. It’s terrifying and uncomfortable. And I’m so glad I finally got the courage to do it.”

Oh. Okay. We’re goingstraightfor the jugular.

“Geez, dude, lay it on a little less thickly, will ya?” I chuckle awkwardly. “I just can’t believe she’s going to publish our dirty laundry.”

“First of all, it’s her absolute best work yet. Ofcourseshe’s going to publish it,” Claire says, returning from the laundry room. I feel my tail fold between my legs. “And secondly, did you actually read it?”

“The first bit, yeah.”

She rolls her eyes, disappears, and when she returns, she has a proof copy of Penelope’s newest book. It’s earmarked, Post-It noted, and highlighted, just like Pen’s copy.

“Be careful with it. I still need to give it to her so that she can make notes. But you really do need to finish the story.”

“I lived it,” I deadpan. “I know what happens.”

“Doyou?” she challenges, squinting at me with her arms crossed.

I stand corrected.

I haven’t wanted to face the end because I don’t want to know what happens when those two words make their way into our real life. Will I be able to live up to the fantasy of what Penelope created for our happily never after? Or will she always be wondering if the ending of her book was better?

If I can’t even live up to the ending she wrote for herself, where do we have to go from here? I’ve let her down more than once. I don’t want giving me her all to be her biggest disappointment.

“Read it, Ant. Trust me when I say that you will be surprised by the turn it takes.”

I trust her—skeptically. She has Penelope’s best interests in mind, so I know she can’t be giving mebadadvice. On my drive home, the book haunts me from the passenger seat.

After shattering Penelope’s foundation, I could barely look at myself in the mirror for weeks. I’m scared to see what happens when I have to read my own actions on the page. Maybe this is what Nathan was talking about though. Facing my fears so I can overcome them.

My biggest one is letting her down again.

Thattruth slaps me square in the face. She asked me the other night what scared me the most about our future. Suddenly, I have the answer.

Maybe that’s what love is. Facing the ugly parts of yourselfforthe other person,withthe other person. I didn’t get to face the ugly parts with Pen the first time. I left her in the dark to do it all by herself, and she waded through the swamp of her emotions by writing them down. I know reading this book will give me all the insight I need. I just have to grow the balls to do it.

On my way home, my phone rings through my Bluetooth.

“Hey, Mama.”

“Where are you driving this late?”

Ah, Debbie Ellis. Always looking out for her babies.

“I had to stop and help out a friend. I’m on my way home now.”

“Home as in the townhouse, or your new place?”

“Townhouse.”

Her. Penelope. She is home.

My mom’s silence speaks louder than any of the taunting things she could be saying—the ones I know she’s holding back. Is it weird that I kind of want her to tease me a little?

“What?” I chuckle.

“I didn’t say anything.”

I can picture her putting up her hands in surrender.

---