Page 211 of His Reckoning

Delete … again and again.

Every attempt feels wrong, like I’m reaching for something that isn’t there anymore.

I lean back again, frustration building in my chest.

“Come on,” I mutter. “This is what you do.”

It’s always been what I do, except now there’s nothing because every idea I reach for feels like a cheap version of something I already had. Something I lost.

My throat tightens.

I close the laptop completely this time and let it sit there in my lap.

I can’t do it, not like this. Not when everything in me feels off.

I place it on the coffee table, thinking maybe distance will help.

A half hour later, I realize that it doesn’t because the problem isn’t the laptop. It’s me.

I let out a heavy sigh as I sink back into the couch.

Now, the thought I’ve been avoiding finally settles in. I don’t just need a new book. I need a new start. And for the first time in years … I don’t know how to do that.

By the time the sun starts setting, I’m still in the same spot.

Same couch, same position … just thinking, which leads back to the same place every time.

Sawyer.

I shift slightly, pulling my knees closer to my chest, trying to make myself smaller, like that might quiet everything down. But I can’t stop replaying it.

The argument and how his expression changed the moment he decided what I had done wasn’t something he could forgive.

I swallow hard. That’s the part that sticks. Seeing him shut down behind his eyes and knowing it won’t come back.

I try to tell myself it makes sense. That anyone would react that way.

I should’ve known better.

I should’vetoldhim.

Instead, I just wrote and assumed he’d understand.

A small, humorless laugh escapes me.

“Good job,” I mutter.

I drop my head back against the couch and stare at the ceiling. Now the reality of it settles in.

I lost the book and my publisher. But that’s not what hurts.

Not really.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a second. I can’t pretend otherwise.

I losthim.

The realization lands heavier than anything else. Not the career or the opportunity, but him.