Chapter 32
EZRA
Ifinish the last page of Scarlett’s manuscript and set my phone down on the kitchen counter.
It’s hard for me to describe the overwhelming emotions that flood through me. I don’t know if I want to laugh or cry.
The entire book is our story.
She changed some of the details, but our truths are written in every scene.
Somehow, she sees me in my rawest form and writes my essence in ways I can’t describe.
The fear, the connection, the way her characters fall in love without meaning to is so damn real it hurts.
Knowing our story and reading her most intimate thoughts makes me wonder how much is in her other books.
I feel as if I’ve pulled back the curtain and seen all her secrets.
Jordan’s internal monologue about being terrified of letting someone in again was almost too much.
I recognized every single thought as my own, but also as Scarlett’s.
I read Helena’s confessions about thinking she’s not enough or the inability of someone to love her for who she is.
So many times I wanted to reach through my phone and tell her she’s everything.
Her Forever is beautiful.
But now I feel numb because I know how she feels. Or at least how she felt when she wrote it.
The book ends with them choosing each other, with her choosing him, with a future that’s exactly what I want with her. But that was fiction, and this is real life. And she’s been gone for a week. Our conversations have been short and sweet.
For some reason, I keep circling back to the title and how the hero becomes the heroine’s forever. About the promise in those two words.
Will I be Scarlett’s forever? Or was I just the inspiration for a story?
I refuse to believe that last thought.
I pick up my phone and check for new messages even though I know there’s nothing new. The screen shows my wallpaper, a photo of the ocean at Millie’s beach house that I took the morning Scarlett finished writing this story about us.
I reread the text she sent me this morning.
Scarlett
Good luck tonight! You’re going to be amazing.
I’ve read it about fifty times.
Willow meows at my feet, and I pick her up, holding her against my chest. She purrs and headbutts my chin.
“You miss her, too, don’t you?”
Willow just purrs louder, digging her claws into my shirt, and I spend a moment with the little furball.
Once she’s had enough, I set her down, and head upstairs to get ready.
My suit is laid out on the bed where I left it this morning. Navy blue, tailored, the one I bought earlier in the year for this event. I shower and clean up my facial hair, taking my time getting dressed because the alternative is standing around checking my phone every thirty seconds.
The shirt fits well. The jacket sits across my shoulders exactly how I wanted. I adjust my tie, then have to do it again before I get it right. As I stand in front of the mirror, I look good. Professional and put together.
I look good, professional, and put together, like my heart isn’t breaking.
My phone buzzes and I snatch it up quickly to see it’s just a text from my aunt.
Millie
Heading to the event center now. Are you there?
Ezra
Leaving now.
Millie
Great! See you there!
I text back a thumbs-up and shove my phone in my pocket.
The drive to the convention center takes twenty minutes.
The parking lot is packed, and I drive up to the valet, where they take my keys.
We sold one thousand tickets as soon as it was listed online six months ago.
They’re going on resale sites for thousands of dollars, with people hoping to catch a glimpse of me and Scarlett.
Unfortunately, that won’t be happening tonight.
However, I’m so damn happy because every single seat is filled. It’s the most successful year we’ve ever had. My mom would be so dang proud.
I check my pocket to make sure my notes for my speech are still there. As I move down the sidewalk of the venue, I notice the crispness in the night air and can hear classical music mixed with laughter drifting from inside the building.
I make it about ten feet before I hear my name being called.
“Ezra! Over here!”
Cameras flash and I freeze in place. There are at least six photographers near the entrance, cameras raised, shouting questions I don’t want to answer.
“Ezra, where’s Scarlett?”
“Is she coming tonight?”
“Are you two still together?”
“Haven’t seen the two of you in over a week. Is there trouble in paradise already?”
I continue walking forward, pretending like I don’t hear a word. My PR training from years of dealing with this kicks in. I don’t engage, just pick up my pace until my pap walk is over.
“Ezra, come on, answer just one question! Is it true she wrote a book about your relationship?”
This makes me chuckle. They have no idea.
Security opens the doors, and I enter. Everyone knows who I am, so they step aside and let me into the convention center.
“There you are.” Millie appears with a clipboard and a headset. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Paps are outside.”
“Oh, honey.” She studies my face. “Still no confirmation if she’s moving?”
I shake my head, knowing there are still three more days left in the month.
“It’s going to work out.” She squeezes my arm and gives me a grin. “Come on. Paula wants to go over the program with you one more time.”
The convention center is massive. The main hall has been transformed with round tables covered in white linens, centerpieces made from local flowers, and a stage at the front with a podium and microphone.
My pottery is displayed on pedestals around the room, alongside work from other local artists.
The lighting makes everything look elegant and expensive.
Paula rushes over when she sees me. “There you are. Lookin’ nice, Ezra. Wanted to let you know I just got word the governor will be here tonight. Can you believe it? The governor of South Carolina!”
“That’s great.” I try to sound enthusiastic.
“Your mom would be thrilled.” Paula’s eyes get misty. “This turnout is incredible. We’re going to make such a huge difference.”
“We are.” I give her a real smile, excited about what we’re accomplishing. “Couldn’t do this without your leadership.”
“Honored to be a part of it. Thank you for keeping your mama’s vision alive.”
When I enter the banquet room, it’s full.
I stand near the main entrance to greet guests, shake hands, and thank people for coming.
Danny and Marcus arrive together and both give me a side hug.
Silvia shows up with her husband Roy, who’s a dentist in town.
The mayor stops by to shake my hand, and a local news crew requests an interview.
Every single person asks about Scarlett.
I tell everyone she’s well, in New York, taking care of business, then I change the subject a thousand times.
Each question is a knife twisting deeper because I don’t know the answers to their questions.
Their guess is as good as mine. I don’t know if she’s coming back.
If she doesn’t, I might go to New York and track her down.
Millie finds me an hour later, and she’s nursing a glass of champagne. “You need to stop for five seconds and eat something.”
“Not hungry.”
“Ezra.” She gives me her stern aunt look.
As a server walks around with cocktail shrimp, I snag a few. “I’m eating, okay?”
She nods, satisfied. I swallow down the food, then gulp the rest of my champagne.
“Don’t get too sauced, your speech is in ten minutes.” She plucks the empty glass from my hand and sets it on the bar. “Pull yourself together.”
I chuckle. “Millie, I’m fine. Trust me. I’ve had two glasses in three hours.”
“I’m just worried about you.” Her voice softens.
My throat gets tight. “I know, but I’ll be okay.”
She squeezes my hand. “I’ll come get you when it’s time.”
My aunt walks away, and I pull out my phone one more time to see if I have a missed text or anything. The silence kills me.
Maybe this is goodbye. Maybe this is her way of creating space, to let me down easy. I send her a text.
Ezra
Thinking about you.
Five minutes pass, then ten, and she doesn’t text me back.
Millie comes and gets me so I can make my way to the front.
I smile at strangers and wave at old friends.
People snap shots of me with their cell phones, like I don’t see them doing it.
Tomorrow, I can only imagine what the gossip sites will say, knowing she didn’t attend one of the biggest events of my business.
Maybe the hero and heroine in her book get their forever, but will we get ours?
I spent the better part of my day reading about a couple who chose love over fear. And now I’m standing in a room full of people who keep asking where Scarlett is, and I have no answer.
I should’ve told her I loved her before she left. Maybe I should’ve begged her to stay and been brave like Jordan instead of letting her walk away.
“Ezra.” Paula touches my elbow. “It’s time.”
“Already?”
“You’ve got this.” She gives me a warm grin. “Go get ’em.”
The lights dim, and a spotlight hits the stage as I walk across it. The crowd quietens and turns their attention to me.
I move behind the podium, keeping my head high, and my smile planted.
The lights are bright, and my eyes scan across the thousand faces looking up at me, waiting.
I pull my notes from my pocket and place them on top of the podium, then rest my hands on the sides.
“Good evening, all,” I start, and my voice sounds steadier than I feel. “Thank you for being my guests of honor tonight. It means the world to me to see this room full of people who believe in supporting young but also struggling artists.”