When the Heart Falls

"He kicked me in the stomach mostly. I hid those with my shirt. Sometimes he hit my face. Those days I hid in the subway station. I told you I was at Duke's."

I feel sick. "You were at Duke's almost every day."

"Exactly." Jenifer focuses on her salad.

I’m still reeling from her confession. How did I not see this? How could I not know? But I know the reason. I didn’t want to see. I judged her for her past, for the way she behaved with men, the things she let them to do her, and the whole time she was a mirror to me, only I never saw it until now. The things I hated most about her were the things I hated most about myself. "Why didn't we tell anyone?"

She shrugs, but the motion costs her. "I didn't want to be alone. Duke was committed to me, and I to him. Though I hated him, I also loved him. Because I could be myself with him. I could tell him secrets, I could act like a bitch, and he'd stay with me. I think that's how Trevor felt. He hated my guts. Made fun of me all the time. But he also needed me. Because I paid attention to him, his mockery, his abuse. That's how he connected. I made him feel important, like he had someone to share his life with."

"Rodney made me feel like shit."

"Maybe you thought you deserved it. Maybe you thought it would never happen again."

I shake my head. "Telling others felt harder than letting Rodney do what he wanted. I thought if I told anyone, they'd pull away. Because they wouldn't believe me. Or they would, and they'd see a damaged girl, and they'd leave the drama alone. There’s so much slut shaming, so much blame put on the victims of rape. I didn’t want to be a victim publicly. It was bad enough in private. I didn’t want everyone to hate me."

"We want to hold on to the people who matter,” she says. “We act from shame and fear.”

"But I was wrong. They didn't pull away. I told you and Cade, and I still have you both."

She holds up her fork and smiles. "As long as you keep bringing me breakfast."



The moon is high in the sky and my heart feels free. It’s exhilarating, and I know I’m ready to finish my novel. I open my laptop, and the words flow out of me.

It takes a week of intense writing. While most of the students are partying and cramming in sightseeing, I lock myself in my room and write. Cade and Jenifer check in on me and make sure I eat, and Cade forces me to take breaks, mostly by seducing me, which I don’t mind a bit.

At the end of the week, my book is done, and I’m happy with the rewrites. Lance's role is expanded. He no longer avoids the heroine. Instead, he keeps fighting for her love. And in the end, his actions teach her that she deserves to be happy. So she accepts the love of the hero—sorry Lance—and they buy a mansion in Hawaii. Fortunately, Lance hooks up with a sexy yoga instructor, so everyone's happy.

I do a final polish on it and send it to Daring for editing. She sends it back to me with an attachment. I open it and see the cover I’d always imagined for the book. Across the front it says “The Ice Queen” by Winter Deveaux.

I bypass my advisor and the publishers and agents. With help from Daring, my book is ready to go live.

I take my computer into Cade’s room. He looks up from a book and smiles. “Hey stranger. Have you seen my girlfriend by chance? I think she was kidnapped by a romance novel.”

“Hardy har har. Well, I’ll have you know, Mr. Smarty-pants, that the romance novel is done. And I’m publishing it tonight.”

He stands and comes to me as I set the computer on his desk.

“What does this mean?”

“It means, I’m taking control of my own career. It also means I’m moving back to New York with you when the summer ends.”

He smiles, then frowns. “But you’ve had your heart set on spending the year abroad. I can’t take that from you.”

I shove him playfully. “You’re not taking anything from me. I’m tired of pretentious professors snubbing me because genre fiction is so beneath them. I’m tired of trying to get respect for my work in a system that refuses to show that respect to anyone who writes romance. I want to do this. I need to do this. For me. Also, I can’t press charges against Rodney if I’m not in New York.”

I wrap my arms around his neck. “Listen, cowboy, I’d probably leave to be with you. That’s enough of a reason, because I love you and I can write anywhere. But the fact is, there are other reasons for me to go back. I was running away, even though I’d convinced myself I wasn’t. Now I’m facing my past and grabbing my future by the tail.”

He smiles, and this time it doesn’t turn to a frown. “You’re sure about this?”

“Positive.”

“What if I don’t get my scholarship? We still haven’t gotten our test results back.”

A fear creeps into my heart, but I shove it away. “One hurdle at a time. We’ll figure it out.” I pull out of his embrace. “Now, I have a book to publish, and I wanted you to be here when I press the button.”