I loved being busy at work, but there was nothing I hated more than the empty store and no customers to talk to. I read the blurbs of the latest releases and rearranged the books in the Young Adult section, but only thirty minutes passed — thirty minutes that felt like two hours.

When a woman walked into the store, I was more than ready to do a victory dance. I greeted her and pretended to be busy with romance books, giving her enough time to browse the shelves without feeling pressured. I didn't like annoying clerks at stores, and I had no desire to be one of them.

I did allow myself to throw glances at the lady clad in a stylish red coat. Her short black hair shone under the store lights. Everything about her was beautiful in a nonconventional way. Her eyes were too big and her lips too thin, but she carried herself with confidence and seemed to be the kind of person who knew what she wanted.

I saw her roll her eyes at the blurb of one of the books Harper and I read. Unlike the lady, Harper didn't give the novel an eye-roll. If my memory served me right, Harper's reaction was more along the lines of spitting her wine at one of the scenes.

It was the definition of raunchy. Of course, we had to read it all to know how it ended. Luckily, it wasn't on my e-reader. Imagining Jim reading the bits of it to me was too much. 

Thinking about Jim and his hands, Jim and his lips, Jim and his tongue would lead to me being more frustrated than I already was. I missed him like crazy and couldn't wait to see him after work.

"Excuse me." My customer's voice rang in the almost empty store, reminding me of my duties.

"Can I help you?" I asked, striding toward the coat-wearing lady.

"You can." She smiled and gave me a once-over. "I'm looking for a good romance. I want angsty and hot, but don't give me billionaires and damsels in distress. Give me a couple I will want to root for. I want genuine feelings and people and sex scenes that don't resemble low-budget porn."

It took me next to nothing to grab one of the series Harper and I adored. "The female main character is smart and career-driven. The man is respectful—"

"Say no more." The woman snatched the books from my hands. "Angsty?"

"Very." I smiled. "You'll want to set these books on fire, but don't do that. You'll regret not knowing what happens next."

"Okay." She winked at me. "Now, I need a good travel guide. I'm going to Paris soon, and I have no idea what to see. Call me old school, but I'd rather not depend on the Internet to move around."

"Are you looking for specific recommendations?"

The woman nodded. "Sights to see, places to eat at, good shopping spots. Everything the local people would recommend."

"Come with me," I said. The customer trailed behind me as I led her to a different section. I took a small book from one of the shelves and opened it. "It's what I took to Paris with me. I used almost all the suggestions from this guide. There are maps of each district and a brief description of what you can find there, as well as a section dedicated to shops and restaurants."

"Thank you," the lady said. "I don't want to take up more of your time, but I need something else."

"It's my job. What else do you need?"

"Some of the latest mystery novels. I don't even know if you heard of them, but—"

"It's one of my favorite genres. There are very few books I haven't read. I'm sure we have what you need."

The woman's features radiated joy. We spoke about books and modern authors, touched on the classics and books we thought were awfully under and overrated. More than an hour passed, and my customer ended up buying more books than she planned. 

"They should give you a promotion," the lady said when I was shoving the hardbacks she'd just purchased in a bag. "I've never come across a bookstore employee who read so much and knew so much about books."

"It's my hobby," I said. If I were more confident, I would've mentioned I liked writing, too. 

"Being good at and passionate about something should be rewarded accordingly," my customer said.

A couple walked in and waved me over. I said goodbye to the woman and went to help them.

***

The evening was perfect. 

Jim's lips trailed soft kisses down my neck. We'd been driving each other crazy for the last half an hour. Not getting much time together over the last couple of days made us desperate for physical contact.

"Baby…" My head fell back when Jim's skilled fingers sneaked under my shirt.

"Yeah," he said into my neck, biting me lightly. His warm palms glided over the curve of my waist, and his heart beat just as fast as mine.

"Bed?"

Jim moved his hands up to my breasts. "A bath together first?"

"And some wine?"

"One glass only. I want you to scream my name and be fully aware of it."

"So cocky."

Jim smiled against my skin. "Hopeful is a better word. Let's go."

He rose from the couch and led me to the bedroom, gripping my hand as if he was afraid to let go of me.

"Grab the robes from the closet while I get everything ready. Okay, baby?" Jim said from the en-suite doorway.

"Sure."

He smiled at me and closed the door behind him. 

Jim was up to something. He'd probably light some candles, and I couldn't think of a better way to spend the night than bathing together and making love after days of missing each other.

I walked into Jim's closet and glanced around, looking for the robes. We wouldn't need them, but I played along to give Jim time to carry out his plan.

I scanned the shelves in front of me but didn't see what I needed. My gaze landed on the hangers.

As if drawn by magnetic pull, it lingered on a suit jacket Jim wore to the event yesterday. Something white stuck out of the pocket. 

I'd never snooped and wasn't going to start now, except the piece of paper wasn't only white.

There were words — words scribbled in familiar handwriting.

I balled my hand into a fist and didn't even flinch when my manicured nails dug into my palm. It couldn't be true. Jim wouldn't see Tasha behind my back, but if he didn't, how would she put a note in his pocket?

I gripped the piece of paper. The lump in my throat grew until it got big enough for me to choke on it.

Thank you for the incredible night.

P.S. I'm sorry the label didn't win, but I hope what we did in the hotel room was a good consolation prize. Let's repeat this soon.

Love,
T.

Moisture welled up in my eyes. The paper slipped out of my hand. I froze in place and stared at the words written with a black pen. They didn't disappear. If anything, they became more real with each passing second.

He came home late, or so he said. What if he wasn't home at all? What if he was so tender with me today because he felt guilty? What if I wasn't enough for him? What if the way we made love was too tame and boring?

"Ava."

Jim's body filled the entrance to the closet. He was smiling, but his smile was short-lived.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked, walking over to me.

I took a step back.

Jim's brows rose. I lowered my gaze to the floor, to the note, and he noticed.

Jim crouched down and picked it up. His eyes widened. "What the fuck is this?"

"You must know since it was in your jacket."

"My jacket," Jim repeated. He didn't look away from the white rectangle in his hands. "Which jacket?"

"The one you wore to the event yesterday."

Jim rubbed his temple. "I see. Someone has a thing for shitty pranks."

He crumpled the note and threw it into a wastebasket in the corner.

"That's it?" I whispered.

Jim shrugged. "Yeah. I'll deal with that shit later. You're my priority tonight."

"You're not going to tell me where you were last night?"

The green eyes I adored roamed my face. "I told you. At the awards ceremony. I called you from home after."

"She said you were at a hotel with her."

"I don't know who wrote that crappy note, baby. I left my jacket on a chair and couldn't find it. It reappeared there later."

"And you didn't check the pockets."

Jim crossed his arms. "I would have if I hadn't been exhausted. I only wanted to go home to sleep and talk to you before I did, and that's exactly what happened. I won't leave it like that, and I'll find out who decided to fuck with us, but I want to be with you now. I had a shitty week, and I missed you. Let's go?"

I shook my head. How could he be so nonchalant when I felt my world was ending?

"Ava?"

Jim extended his hand and waited.

I swallowed. "I can't."

"Why?"

"Seriously? I've found out my boyfriend slept with someone else."

Jim shook his head and muttered something under his breath, too low for me to hear.

"You're not even trying to defend yourself," I said, my voice shaky and thin.

"Why would I defend myself if I did nothing wrong? Okay, baby, that was shitty, but I got weird notes before. It's nothing new. I usually throw them away, but this time I forgot."

Jim's words and his patient tone only spurred on my anger. "Put yourself in my shoes!"

Jim covered his face with his palms. "Yeah, okay, I did. Guess what? Nothing.  Nothing because I love you and trust you enough to be sure you wouldn't fuck another guy in a hotel room. If you told me nothing happened, I'd believe you. I know what you feel for me. I know your heart and your body. Why the hell would I even entertain the thought of you being unfaithful?"

"Because people cheat, Jim."

"People who don't love their partners cheat, Ava. My parents never cheated on each other. Noah never cheated on Riley. My friend Kennedy would never cheat on his girl. Why the fuck would I cheat on you, huh? Tell me!"

Jim's voice rose. It never had before, never with me,  but it did now. 

"Because I'm inexperienced. Because you might not be getting what you need."

"What I need?" Jim said the words much softer. "I need someone to rush home to. I need someone to love. I need someone I can hold at night. And I need someone to trust me — trust me because they know me. Have I ever made you feel not loved? Where the fuck did I fail?"

"We're different. Our lives are different. You don't have to worry about other men."

Jim gripped his hair and looked at the ceiling. The oxygen in the closet wasn't enough, or maybe it was me who couldn't breathe.

"So it all comes down to me being who I am, right? The way I love you doesn't matter. The way we make love, what we feel, how we are together doesn't matter. Well, I'm sorry, Ava, but nothing will change. I will have fans who don't always understand I'm a human being who has feelings. Some women will want to fuck me. I'll have bras stuffed into my pockets against my will cause I'm absent-minded when I'm stressed out, and I'm stressed out every fucking day.

"I was afraid of this. I've been afraid of this every day since I met you. I was scared I'd have to choose between having someone I loved and doing something I love. Would you be happy if I quit? I don't think so cause that's who I am. I wouldn't make you quit writing. And maybe it's you people recognize on the streets in a couple of years. So yeah, baby, now's your turn to put yourself in my shoes."

The silence that stretched between us was deafening. A tear rolled down my cheek, but Jim didn't brush it away. 

"I need a fucking drink," he said and stormed out of the tiny space.

I dragged my feet to the bedroom. Maybe I had to leave. We'd only make it worse if I stayed.

I grabbed my purse from the armchair by the bed and rummaged in it. Everything was there except for my phone.

I must've left it on the couch when we kissed there earlier. How come only an hour passed? How come an hour changed everything?

"Have you seen my phone?" I asked Jim in the living room. 

He was sitting with his back to me, his head hanging low and no drink in sight.

I circled the couch. Jim hopped to his feet and pushed past me, but it wasn't fast enough. I'd seen his wet cheeks.

"Jimmy." I reached for his arm, but he shook his head. "Your phone's on the coffee table."

Each step he took to get away from me hurt me. His tears hurt me. That note hurt me.

I swallowed my tears and padded to the coffee table. My eyes flared as soon as I unlocked my phone.

Texts. Lots of texts and just as many missed calls from Ivy and my dad.

I read the first message.

Ivy: Call me asap. I'm with Isla at the hospital. Rose passed away.

Thoughts?
I feel bad for both of them.