Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 93699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
I park my car in front of the building where she’s hosting a “strategy meeting” a few hours from now and step outside with roses.
Through the cafe’s windows, I watch her for several minutes. Then, because I can’t help it, I call her.
She stares at her phone’s screen as my name appears, and right when I think she’s letting it go to voicemail, she holds it up to her ear.
“Hello?” she answers.
“How are you?”
“Travis…” She lets out a slow breath. “You promised not to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Hold onto me.” She swallows. “We agreed.”
“There was no ‘we’ in that fucking decision,” I say. “You made that on your own and you know that.”
She shakes her head. “I haven’t been well. You?”
“Same.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible,” she says. “Your career is flourishing.”
“Yours is, too.”
A smile crosses her face, but it falters. “I can’t do this, Travis. I have to go.”
She hangs up before I can ask another question, and a guy in grey sits across from her.
He clasps her hand and kisses it.
What the…
Without thinking, I walk inside the cafe and approach their table.
“We need to talk.” I glare at her, keeping my voice firm. “Now.”
“Oh no,” her date says, smiling. “Are we at your table?”
“What?” Tatiana and I say in unison.
“You’re Travis Carter.” He smiles and holds up his hand in a playful surrender. “I am not trying to be a hero if this is your typical spot. I watch the UFC and I’m a huge fan of yours.”
“Oh my god!” The manager rushes over. “Can I get a picture with you?”
“In a minute,” I say, still looking at Tatiana. “I need to talk to someone first.”
“I’m a big fan of yours as well,” Tatiana says, with no emotion whatsoever. “I’m always amazed at how well you let go of the match when it’s over and move on to the next.”
“I wish it were that easy.”
“I’m sure it seems really hard at first,” she says, “but I guarantee the other person appreciates you doing that, so they can move on, too.”
“Are those roses for your fans?” Her date asks. “Are you in town doing some type of Valentine’s Day promo?”
“No, they’re for someone who means the world to me.” I step back. “Well, they were, anyway.”
“Can I get a picture with you, too, Travis?” A blonde rushes up to me.
“Me, too!” “If you don’t mind, can I?” “Please?” Other fans appear around me, and I put on a fake smile for what feels like forever.
Through their endless line of selfie requests, I catch glimpses of Tatiana avoiding me, her chatting with this other guy as if he’s even half the man I am.
I’m tempted to interrupt and tell her she’s still mine—that she’ll always be mine, but then the guy kisses her lips.
She doesn’t pull away; she kisses him back.
The last bits of my heart break in my chest, and I force myself to leave the cafe mid-selfie. I toss the red roses onto the street and return to my car.
If she wants to pretend like we never met, two can play that game.
ACT 16 & A HALF
BACK THEN
TATIANA
Years Later
Manhattan, New York
Please be the one. Please be the one.
I’m standing outside a beautiful brick brownstone, hoping like hell that my apartment search will end today. So far, I’ve toured studios with rat infestations, high-rises I can’t afford, and places so small that only two of my suitcases would fit.
Repeating my prayer, I ring the doorbell, and the door swings open within seconds.
What the…Penelope?
We stare at each other, and I look her over in disbelief.
Time has been great to her since her fall; she’s gorgeous and looks like she’s healed well.
Unlike the rumors I’ve heard here and there, she doesn’t look dazed at all.
Does she even remember me?
“Ugh. It’s you.” She glares at me, answering that question, looking at me with pure disdain.
“You.” I glare right back and cross my arms.
“If I had known this place was yours,” I say, “I swear I never would’ve answered the ad.”
“It’s a good thing you did.” She shrugs. “You can get a good look at a beautiful place where you’ll never stay.”
“I’ve always known that you were a cold-hearted bitch.”
“I’ve always known that you were a bigger one.”
“I’d die before living here.”
“Do you see me offering to let you in?” She starts to shut the door. “Good luck with your search.”
“Wait,” I say, wedging my foot between the frame. “I hate to ask, but can I please use your bathroom before I go?”
“Fine.” She opens the door. “It’s down the hall and to the left. Make sure you get a good look at my medal collection on your way there. Pay special attention to the gold one from the Olympics in Sochi.”
“Too bad you’re missing the gold one from Pyeongchang.” I can’t help but throw that jab since she wants to live in the past. “I wonder who won that one.”