Page 83 of Keeping London (Flawed Heart)

“Okay,” I breathe out. “Okay.”

My hand trembles as I click to open the email.

To: London Wright

From: Loïc Berkeley

Subject: Enough

It’s over.

I stare at the two words contained within the email.

It’s over.

What the hell?

Paige sits next to me, her gaze glued to the laptop screen containing the two vile words.

“What does that mean? He can’t be referring to our relationship, can he?”

“I don’t know, honestly. It’s so cryptic. He could have given you a little more to go off of. Jeez,” Paige huffs out.

“Maybe his tour is over? His mourning? His radio silence?”

“Dinner? His run? His shower?” Paige says, sarcasm lining her voice.

“Now is not the time for jokes. I have to figure out what he means.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But, seriously.” Her features scream annoyance as she shakes her head.

“Look…I get that he could have given me more. But at least he finally responded. That has to mean something.”

“It’s been two months since Cooper died, and he emails you two words. I’m sorry, but you deserve more than that, London.”

“Thank you for being such a great friend, Paige. I appreciate you so much. Obviously, I wish things were different, but this is something at least.”

“Barely.”

“He’s been going through a hard time. He’s been through so much. He’s entitled not to handle his grief well. He’ll get through this. It’ll be fine.”

And it will be okay.

Sure, I could assume his email means the worst and break down, crumbling into a sobbing mess. But I’m not going to. I know what Loïc and I had—have. It is real, and it is forever. I can’t pretend to know what he’s going through or imagine the circumstances that caused him to write me those words.

There are so many variables, most of which are unknowns. The only thing I can do is cling on to what I hold as a truth, and that’s my love for Loïc.

Unless I hear the words fall from his lips and know, without a doubt, that he means them, I won’t believe them. I simply can’t. Because they don’t make sense.

I hate the pity I see in Paige’s eyes. She looks like she’s going to say something, but she only nods.

“I’m going to write him back. I’ll see what he says.”

I quickly write him an email.

To: Loïc Berkeley

From: London Wright

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