She was a patient, furious reader who left long private notes that rewired my drafts. I was an awkward, self-sabotaging novelist who hid behind sunglasses and bad jokes. We met online as author and fan; we collided in a backyard BBQ, then in an apartment where my cowardice almost cost me everything. She called me out, edited my heart, and refused to be reduced to a footnote in my stories. I wanted to run; she forced me to stay. This is a slow-burn sapphic love about two stubborn people who finally stop wasting each other. There are late-night revisions, public proposals at City Hall, knife-close accidents, a corporate deal that smells like a trap, and a brother determined to “buy” my past away. Can a writer who habitually rewrites endings learn to live with an honest, messy present? Or will old debts and other people’s bargains tear us apart before we even get to the vows? Tender, sharp, and compulsively readable — for anyone who believes the right reader can save a writer’s life.
25 Chapters
