Chapter 55 Hunter
Hunter
I’m sitting in my living room, the house dead quiet except for the creak of wood settling and the occasional low whistle of wind against the windows. The notebook’s in my lap—her notebook—and I’ve been flipping through it for the past hour.
The first time I read it, I was pissed. Seeing everything I thought was just between us written down, some of it explicit as hell, mixed right in with plot notes and chapter outlines. I felt exposed. Played. Used like a damn fool.
But tonight, I’m calmer. Less . . . reactive.
Trying like hell to give her the benefit of the doubt.
I read slower this time. Really read. Not just the sex. Not the observations about the way I move or what I say in the dark when it’s just the two of us.
It’s the other stuff.
The letters to me.
The confessions about her ex, the emotional scars he left behind.
Her fears and vulnerabilities.
Her hopes and dreams.
The ache she tries so hard to cover up.
The way she describes grappling with all the conflicting feelings I stir up in her.
The entries about how hard it is to do this life alone, but how she’s done it anyway, because what choice does she have?
There’s a page where she writes about independence like it’s her religion, but then right under that, like a whispered secret—she writes I think I could need him if I let myself.
Some pages are stained. Like she was crying when she wrote them.
I’m starting to think this wasn’t a gimmick or some cold, calculated thing.
It’s just her, being a complicated human like the rest of us.
I close the notebook, my thumb resting on the weathered cover, and lean back in my chair.
I’m done spinning my wheels about this. Done listening to other people.
I need to go talk to Wren—hear it straight from her. Let her explain—or yell at me or slam the door in my face. Hell, I probably deserve that much for going radio silent on her, for keeping her at arm’s length when she let me into her world without much hesitation.
But I’m not doing this guessing game anymore.
I need to know once and for all . . . was any of this real?