When the Heart Falls

The man who helped me cross my darkest chasm into the brightest light.

But it’s too soon for love, isn’t it? That’s what people would say. Except, the heart feels what it feels. He’s become a part of me. Our daily study sessions and walks through Paris. Our hours and hours talking about nothing and everything. Our night, together, exposed and accepted by each other.

My laptop comes alive, and I finally know how to write romance, how to write love, passion, and all the things that make life worth living.

The chapters fly out of me, my fingers moving over the keys so fast I’m not even reading my own words, just writing the song that’s in my heart.

As another chapter ends, I pause, looking at Cade, gliding a finger over his face, feeling the heat of his skin, the stubble on his chin. Words tumble out of me in a whisper.

"She opened herself to him, and, in that moment, she opened herself to the world. Let it hurt her. Let it burn her veins, boil her blood and scorch her heart. For where there could be pain, there could be pleasure and love. She would be cold no longer. She would melt the hearts of others, and in turn, they would melt hers. She would feel the full spectrum of emotions and cry. She would be human. And she would be happy."

My finger slides down his lips and then back to my keyboard, and I capture those words on my screen.



We spend the morning in bed, reliving the best memories of the night before and making a few new ones. By late morning we’re both starving, and so we dress—bummer—and enjoy breakfast on the patio of our hotel. Everything feels brighter, more alive, today; even the food tastes more amazing.

Cade takes a bite of his bagel, chews and swallows, smiling at me. "Did you get a lot written this morning?"

I nod and sip my juice. "You must have inspired me!"

The sun is warm and the air smells clean, the kind of clean that can only come after a storm. Another parallel to life—that we need storms to clear out the debris, so the sun can shine even brighter the next day.

Cade's hand reaches under the table and rubs up my thigh. "I have more inspiration in me, if you need it."

So tempting, and yet… "I might need a few hours to recover from your last motivational exercise." Le sigh. If only I could spend my life in bed with Cade.

"A few hours. I can handle that." He pulls his hand away and resumes eating. "So, what happens next with your book, once you finish it?"

"That's the million dollar question, isn't it?" I think back to all of the rejection letters I've received. "It used to be an aspiring writer only had one choice. Submit query letters to agents until someone signs you, then wait while they pitch your book to publishers and hope for the best. Most books don't get published, and the few that do only stay on the shelves for six months before being pulled, unless they become bestsellers."

"Sounds like a frustrating career choice," he says.

No kidding.

Talk of publishing has ruined what's left of my appetite, and Cade is already finished.

He stands and offers his hand to me. "What do you want to do today?"

I join him, my hand engulfed in his. "It's such a beautiful day, maybe we can go to the abbey and enjoy the gardens? I wouldn't mind getting some more writing done, if that's all right?"

"Sounds good. I have a book on the history of architecture in Paris I can read."

I nudge his ribs. "Thought you already knew everything there is to know about that particular subject."

He puts his arm around me while using his free hand to scoop up our bags as we leave the courtyard. "There's always more to learn."

We walk in silence for some time, enjoying the budding flowers and old buildings.

Cade seems lost in thought and startles me when he speaks. "Architecture isn't quite as difficult a field to break into as publishing. But still, I worry I won't make it. How do you keep going with such daunting odds? What will you do if your book isn't picked up?"

My stomach clenches at his question. "There are other options now. The world is changing. It seems writers no longer need the Big Six to get their books to readers."

"The Big Six?"

"The six biggest publishers, actually I guess five now, since two of them merged."

"Then what's changed?"

"EBooks. Writers can now self-publish their books online and those books are available to millions of readers."

"So, it’s like they're skipping a step," he says. "They're skipping the book deal."

"Exactly. And some self-published authors are making a lot of money. They're getting print only deals with big publishers now, though it looks like even print options are expanding for indie authors."

"I thought they weren't getting any deals." Cade looks a bit confused, then shrugs. "This publishing stuff is a lot more complex than I imagined. You know all this stuff about books, and I just know I like reading."