CH. 42

From Jackie's pause, Willa could tell that either the woman had really good news - or she was preparing herself to let Willa down in a big way. There was a stagnant pause, with neither woman saying a word. If real life was a movie, pounding, emotional music would have started to play in the background. But since real life never came with a soundtrack, there was only the low hum of someone's ignition purring to life and a scatter of birdsong somewhere above Willa's head.

"I'm sorry."

Hope shriveled in Willa's chest. She felt like she had to play a part, had to say, "Yes, Jackie. I understand. Thank you for letting me know." It felt like she had to resign herself to being like everyone else, resign herself to slogging away at her manuscript for another year. Somehow, along the way, Willa had convinced herself that if she could become successful, it would have made the pain useful.

So she said nothing, because she'd spent too much of her life saying things she didn't want to say. She slipped through the door Nate held open for her. He must have read the expression on her face, because his bland, unaffected face immediately expressed concern and an emotion she shuddered to think of as pity.

"—ready?"

Snapping out of her self-pity, Willa cleared her throat. "Sorry, what?"

Jackie laughed. The sound irritated Willa, who found it insensitive. She and Nate began the climb up to his apartment, bypassing a middle-aged woman who held a leash in one hand and a yipping terrier in the other.

"I asked," Jackie answered, "if you were ready?"

"Um, no, what did you say before that?"

"Oh, gosh, Willa, I always do this! I keep forgetting that sometimes people need a minute to process things."

As Nate fiddled with the key, Willa fought for patience. "Yeah, I'm afraid I kind of...blanked out for a second there."

"My fault," Jackie apologized. "So sorry, Willa!" She laughed again, this time with a note of self-deprecation. "I always do this!" she repeated, as if that was supposed to illuminate Willa with insight. "Willa, I called to say I was sorry for being such a, well, I was quite a naysayer, wasn't I? You were right. This...this is really something."

Willa stepped through Nate's doorway, trying not to jump to another mistaken conclusion. Instead, she waited for Jackie to continue.

"Thing is, Willa, I laughed and cried the whole way though it. There was..." Jackie exhaled. "This was me all through high school and college. Small town girl with small town friends. The same friends her whole life. And this is a different generation. With different problems. And I still cried like I was Wendy. In her friends Gemma and Stacey I saw my own friends. I felt like I was eighteen again."

Her skin hummed. Willa smiled, hearing the nostalgia in Jackie's voice. She stayed quiet, letting Jackie talk. It was as cathartic an experience for her as it must have been for the agent. The older woman's voice washed over her in lazy, soothing waves. Willa sank into Nate's couch, feeling limp with joy.

Nate gazed at her worriedly, but Willa didn't even see him. Sensation had taken over every pore of her body and she was hyper-aware of the tickle of her skin and the thrumming of her blood. It had finally happened. Her name in print, people buying her book in bookstores, people blogging and tweeting and adding her book to their real and virtual bookshelves. Her time had come. Her time was now.

"I have so much confidence in this book, Willa. I've told some of the other agents here about it, too, and they were blown away. They're bemoaning their own alpha CEO heroes and klutzy, plain Jane heroines. This brings a whole new level to new adult lit, Willa."

"Thank you, thank you so much." Willa almost had to gasp for the breath to say the words.

"So, I hope you're ready. Once we get some papers signed, we can get started on the real work."

"The real work?" Willa's voice held awe.

Jackie laughed. "Oh, yeah. We have to target some influencers, get some ARCs—that's advanced reader copies, by the way—out to reviewers, and get this baby over to an editor for line edits."

Her voice held a smile, Willa suspected. The work sounded exhausting and never-ending, but Jackie sounded happy to do it. Nate's back was to her as he tidied up his cluttered apartment. She heard him cluck his tongue in irritation as his cat got underfoot, weaving between his legs with an insistent please pet me purr.

He's so supportive, Willa thought, unable to resist adding a but to the end of the sentence. Nate turned and gave her a quick flash of a smile over his shoulder before resuming his work, brushing crumbs off the dining table and into his waiting palm. He ignored his pet's plaintive mews for attention.

She stared at Nate's back, only half-listening to Jackie's continued spiel. Her boyfriend stood tall and capable. He was handsome, too, not in an obvious, flashy way, but in a way guaranteed to make anyone take notice. Wholesome and striking, she decided, watching his decisive, graceful movements as he walked around the apartment.

Was it love, though? Something had stopped her from saying it in the car earlier. It seemed too late in the game to decide it wasn't. The natural progression of their relationship meant that at about this point in time, she should either be falling for him or fallen already.

The truth was, everything about them was too neat and tidy. It seemed like their paths had aligned ever since he'd come to Paige's office. He was a space rock, and Willa had been sucked into the gravitational pull of his orbit, fated to crash into whatever hunk of planet he landed on. In this case, it had been Paige.

But was it enough?

Her indecisiveness clawed at her. Sometimes she got the niggling, persistent feeling that he would be another Cyn to her one day. Subtle in his control of her, but visceral in his judgment. Nate was different from her, she'd always known that. She'd appreciated their differences, never having been one to want to match with her boyfriend in outfit or in opinion.

"Willa, Willa, are you there?"

"Yes!" She jerked back to reality, shaking the cobwebs from her mind. "I'm here."

Nate twisted around to give her a bewildered look, mouthing a what's up to her from across the room. She tried to smile, but it felt wooden. But it put him at rest - he returned her smile with ease and slouched into one of the dining room chairs. He brought one leg up to his chest and began to play with his phone.

"You'll want to note this moment for posterity," said Jackie. "You know, fifty years down the line, you'll want to look back and remember exactly where you were and who you were with when this happened. Like my father can remember each detail so vividly about where he was when man first walked on the moon. He can't remember my mother's grocery list but he'll be able to rattle off names and faces of people he hasn't seen in half a century. Like those kids who were in school the day the towers fell. It's something they'll never forget."

Willa nodded. Jackie's words made sense, but suddenly, she felt sure of only one thing. And it made her feel a twinge of guilt, the barbs of her own realization pricking her like a splinter in the heart.

She looked at Nate, who was dividing his attention between stroking the cat and replying to a text message. His forehead scrunched in concentration as the cat's tail swished over the screen of his phone. It made Willa smile, but she let it drop before he could see.

The truth was, when Jackie had told her that her dream of being a published author was coming true, the person she wanted next to her was not Nate Wheeler.

Author's Note: Do you agree with Willa's revelation? Why or why not? I look forward to hearing your feedback :)