The Girl I Once Loved: Love & Hate Duet

“These new chapters you’ve sent me are chef’s kiss, darling. My jaw hasn’t left the floor with how good they are,” Eliza praises over the phone, unable to keep her excitement at bay.

“They are still very rough drafts, Eliza, but I do appreciate the enthusiasm,” I reply, feeling a little lightheaded with her feedback.

When I gained the courage to send my editor the first few chapters weeks ago of my incomplete manuscript, it was a total leap of faith. I just needed someone who didn’t have any affiliation with my life to give me some objective and unbiased feedback. I never expected such a reaction from her though. She’s been texting me non-stop ever since.

But her reaction wasn’t as nearly as surprising as how quickly I was able to write all the chapters she craved. It felt like the faucet inside me just turned on one day, allowing me to pour out everything I had inside of me, and letting me finally speak my truth. More than Noah’s constant shadowing and attention, writing down our story and seeing the beauty of our budding love unfold has had the capacity to mend the cracks in my heart that I thought would never fully heal.

Even if this book never gets published, I at least have it partly to thank for aiding in my healing process.

“It’s just not enthusiasm, my dear girl. I know a winner when I read it, and this book has all the makings of a best seller,” Eliza explains, knocking the air out of my lungs.

“Do you really think so?” I choke out nervously.

“Darling, when it comes to the business of romance, I never kid. In fact, open your inbox. I think you’ll be very pleased with what I just sent you.”

I sit down on my desk and open my email through my laptop and see the names of the Big Five publishing houses all offering me first dibs for my book with a seven-figure advance to boot.

“But how—”

“How did they get their greedy little hands on your chapters?” Eliza finishes the sentence for me, and I don’t need to see her to hear the mischievous smile in her voice. “I might have sent them your first ten chapters to start a little bidding war.”

“You didn’t?” I squeal ecstatically.

“Oh, but I did,” Eliza retorts smugly, apparently very pleased with herself, even when I explicitly told her that I didn’t know if I wanted to publish my book or not. But as I open my email box and see so many offers, I’m kind of happy she disregarded all my foolish concerns. “And now you can have the pick of the litter and go with whomever you feel suits you best. However, having said that, please see that Rosewood Publishing has also put its hat in the race by adding a couple thousand extra to the highest bidder.”

My chest constricts with so much joy, it takes me a moment to reply to her.

“You do know that there is no way I’d ever want my book to be published by anyone else. You could have saved yourself a lot of money by keeping it close to the vest.”

“And what would be the fun in that?” Eliza laughs. “I want those sons of bitches to see I bested them. And besides, this way you’ll get a contract that is deserving of your efforts. You’ve paid more than your dues. It’s time to collect the spoils.”

“I have no words. Thank you, Eliza. Thank you,” I repeat in a loop, feeling euphoric as well as an immense sense of gratitude to her.

“You know how you can thank me? By telling me if the protagonists in your story end up together or not. I swear, if you don’t give them their happily ever after, after everything they went through, I’ll never forgive you. Do tell me? Will they?”

God, I hope so.

“You’ll just have to wait and read it for yourself,” I say instead.

“Fair enough. I’ve been around writers long enough to respect their process and not insist on spoiling the ending. Just keep doing what you’re doing, Skylar. Going back to Thatcher’s Bay was definitely the right move for you.”

“Speaking of which,” I begin to say, while nervously chewing on my bottom lip. “If, for example, I wanted to leave Boston and make Thatcher’s Bay my permanent home, how would that work for you?”

“What do you mean?” she asks, confused.

“Well, if I was to move back here, how would it impact my job at the publishing house?”

“Skylar, my dear, dear girl, I don’t think it’s fully sunk in what I just told you. You no longer have a job with Rosewood Publishing. You’re a client now. Your ghostwriting days are over. You can live wherever you want. That’s for you to decide. After we publish this book, I’m sure many will follow. It will be one hit after another. I have my utmost faith in you. I always have.”

Someone pinch me.

I must be dreaming.

“I can one hundred percent guarantee you that you are not.” Eliza laughs, alerting me to the fact that I must have said the last thought in my head out loud. “Now, I’ll leave you to it and fully expect a new chapter by the end of the week. Take care, sweet girl.”

And with that, Eliza hangs up the phone.

I’m in a state of utter shock, and it’s only when I hear the faint sound of Noah’s bike engine driving up that I snap out of it, jumping out of my seat and running downstairs to give him the news.

“No—’ I start to yell in utter glee but stop mid-syllable when I open the door to the front porch and realize that Noah isn’t alone.

“Looks like you have a visitor,” Noah utters with a deep-rooted frown as he eyeballs Gael getting out of his rented car.

“Gael,” I say in greeting, completely shocked to see him in my parent’s driveway.

“Hi. I hope it’s okay me showing up like this,” Gael says nervously, sensing Noah’s unwelcome reaction to him.

“It’s fine.” I force a smile.

But as I watch both men walk in tandem towards me, I’m once again left speechless with the sudden realization that slaps me right across the face.

How could I ever believe myself capable of loving anyone that wasn’t my stepbrother?

In what world could that ever be the case?

After they both take the last step on the porch, Gael just stands there, waiting for me to make the next move. However, Noah doesn’t wait for me to make up my mind.

“Have your talk, Sky. I’ll wait for you inside,” he says, pressing his hand on my lower back as he leans down to press a tender kiss to my lips, using his actions to stake claim on what is his—my heart.

My cheeks must be crimson red as the door softly closes behind me, leaving Gael alone on the porch.

“I…um…maybe we should sit down,” I tell him, pointing to the patio furniture.

Gael nods and takes a seat on the two-seater while I prefer to sit on the chair to its side.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you until the wedding rehearsal tomorrow,” I croak out when Gael remains silent.

“Yes. I can see you weren’t,” he accuses under his breath, before running his fingers through his brown hair. “Shit. That was a shitty thing for me to say, and completely unfair. I’m sorry,” he quickly rectifies.

That’s Gael for you.

Even when he has just cause to hurt someone, he’d never do it. It’s just not in his nature.

“So it’s him, huh? Noah. Your stepbrother,” he asks outright, and again, there isn’t actual malice in his tone, just an urgent need to understand.

“Yes,” I admit steadfastly, looking him in the eyes so he sees the truth in them.

He lets out a self-deprecating chuckle.

“You probably think I’m an idiot.” He shakes his head, his knees bobbing away nervously.

“I would never think that of you, Gael. Ever.”

“Why not? I feel so foolish right now. I mean, all the signs were there. The reason why you never wanted to come home on the holidays. All the excuses you made over the years for me never to visit the home you grew up in. I mean, even that first night when we met at the Monroes’ yacht party, my gut told me that you two were more than siblings. But when we reconnected after college, I must have put that night in the back of my mind, unwilling to see the truth.”

Sensing his pain, I lean in and hold onto his hands.

“You had no way of knowing, Gael. I spent plenty of energy and time keeping that part of my life hidden, even from myself. I’m just sorry that it took me coming home to realize what you have been feeling all these years. I’m so sorry, Gael. I really did care for you. I still do.”

His brown eyes dim as he softly holds onto my hands.

“You just can’t love me.”

“No.” I shake my head.

“Because you love him.”

It feels wrong admitting something so personal to Gael when I haven’t said the words to Noah yet, so instead of saying anything in return, I just nod.

“Does he make you happy?” Gael asks, hopeful.

“He tries. He tries very hard.” I offer him a small smile.

“But will he succeed? Will he be able to give you everything you ever dreamed of?”

“He already has,” I admit, hating how my honesty only dulls his bright light.

“Then that’s all I can hope for,” Gael retorts, giving me a small smile of his own.

I really didn’t deserve this man. He’s too damn good.

I pray whoever he falls in love with next sees just how special he is.

Recognizes his worth.

Gael lets out a sigh and pulls his hands away so he can discreetly wipe away the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. He then stands up and eats the small distance between us, placing his palms on my cheeks.

“I have to admit that this is not the way I played all of this out in my head. I thought if I came a couple of days early before the wedding, you’d see it for the romantic gesture it was and that we might make up. I guess I should have known when you stopped answering my texts that your heart was already someplace else. With someone else. But then again, it always was with him, huh?”

Again, I nod, because saying the words out loud just seems cruel.

And Gael has never been cruel a day in his life. He sure as hell doesn’t deserve me to be.

I cover his hands with mine and stare into his rich brown eyes that were once my saving grace.

“You are a wonderful man, Gael. One day you’ll find someone just as wonderful, someone who is actually deserving of you. I’m sorry that it wasn’t me.”

“I know,” he whispers. “And I also know how hard you tried to be. All I want is your happiness, Skylar. I thought that maybe I could love you enough for the both of us, but when I saw you look at him just now…that…that is what I want. True unrequited love.”

“And you’ll find it, Gael. I know you will.”

He pulls my forehead to his and we take a minute to say goodbye to the people we were to each other.

“I really did love you. Who am I trying to kid? I still do. Just be happy, Skylar. And if he’s your happiness, don’t let him go. You deserve love too.”

My own tears begin to sting my eyes as Gael leans in and steals a soft innocent kiss, his own way of saying goodbye. He then breaks away from our rigid stance and dashes over to his car, not wanting me to see the destruction I just caused. I hold onto the porch’s railing as tears fall down my cheeks, as I watch that part of my life drive away, never to return.

Strong hands wrap themselves around my waist, Noah’s chest pressed against my back as he places his chin on my shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asks calmly.

“As okay as can be expected.” I shrug.

“Do you want me to have a talk with him at the wedding? Maybe make him understand we’ve got history?” Noah suggests, trying to do his best to ease my guilt.

“Gael won’t be at the wedding,” I reply knowingly.

I know Gael.

He’s too much of a good man to go to my sister’s wedding, knowing his presence would only make things awkward for me.

“Hmm,” Noah murmurs before twirling me around in his arms and pinning my back to the railing. “You let him kiss you,” he adds, running the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip.

“I just broke the man’s heart, Noah. A kiss seems harmless enough in comparison.”

“Hmm.”

“Wait? Were you spying on us?”

“Not spying. Just keeping a vigilant eye on what’s mine.”

“I’m not your property, Noah Fontaine.” I cock a brow.

“Oh, baby, just because there’s no ring on your finger yet doesn’t mean you’re a free agent. Your heart, body, and soul all have my name branded on them, and don’t you forget it,” he murmurs, running his thumb leisurely down my chin and my throat until it finds the swell of my breasts above the simple sundress I have on.

My heart is drumming a mile a minute, as I try very hard not to focus on the fact that Noah, in a few words, just told me his plans to marry me. And the little smirk that plays on his lips tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“You never did like to play fair,” I pant as he draws little circles on my tender flesh. “I’m surprised you even went inside and left me all alone out here to talk to Gael. The Noah I knew back in the day would have planted my ass on his lap and watched every second of my breakup.”

“Trust me, my restraint was solely for your benefit. And baby, promise me something? No more talk of Gael or breakups? My fragile ego can only take so much.”

“Is that right?” I taunt, pressing myself against his already hard cock. “It doesn’t seem that fragile from where I’m standing.”

“Fuck,” he moans, his ocean gaze clouding over with lust. “Where are the parentals?”

“They’re having lunch with Daisy and Derrick and his folks in town. Why?”

“Because I can still see his hands on your face and his lips on your mouth, and that shit just won’t do,’ he growls, picking me up and pulling my legs around his hips. “Now I can fuck you here, out where the whole world can see, or in your bed. Just decide quickly while I can still muster the strength not to be inside you.”

I wrap my arms around his neck, my mouth right at his ear. “If I’m yours like you say I am, then I guess you’ll figure it out,” I whisper, before biting his earlobe.

“On the porch it is then,” he groans.

And as he slips my panties to the left to thrust deep inside me right there where anyone can see us, I forget all about book deals and broken promises. I forget about wedding rehearsals and shattered hearts.

Because none of it matters in the grand scheme of things.

All that really matters is us.

And our love.