That was a tricky one.
But they were managing. And here they all were at dinner.
Logan and Will might not be best friends again, but everyone was cordial. Who could say? Maybe they would be.
Life was so much more complex, wonderful, terrifying, painful and glorious than she’d realized.
“Mom,” Ethan said. “When your book comes out, are we all going to be famous?”
“Or infamous,” Will said, giving her a side eye.
His side eye wasn’t serious. He knew what she’d written.
About their life and their marriage. She hadn’t simplified it. The good or the bad. He was also pretty understanding about the fact it was her story, which meant it was her perspective.
It was honest, though. All that honestly she’d been scared of for so long.
He probably wasn’t going to read the whole book.
While reading the parts about the two of them had gone a long way in healing some of their wounds, he had been pretty honest about not needing to read about her romance with Logan.
Fair enough.
“No,” she said. “Because the odds of more than ten thousand people buying it are low.”
“So we’ll be niche famous,” said Aiden. “Which is more metal anyway.”
“The gossip is going to start again,” Chloe said cheerfully.
The gossip had never stopped. Chloe just didn’t live here full-time. They were officially a scandal. Sam and Logan ending up together had created a wave of interest and speculation. Sam selling a book about it was even more titillating. (Amy Callahan had an MFA, and was incensed that Sam had gotten a book deal telling hertawdry storyofsexandinfidelity, or so she’d been told. Especially when Sam hadn’t even gone to college.)
The good news about everyone being so interested was that her book was guaranteed to sell a full 2,900 copies at least. In keeping with the population of the town.
There were some personal things in there. But it wasn’t really about sex—though she’d written about the sex. It was a memoir about change. About letting go. About living life for yourself instead of a whole town.
Maybe the people reading for shock value could learn something.
But they probably wouldn’t. They’d probably go back to their neat homes, with everything in its place, and sleep with men they didn’t really love, in the name of not making waves.
Sam could never regret the waves.
They finished eating, talked about the kids’ plans, hugged, and went their separate ways. A big, slightly broken family.
This was why she’d written the book. To understand this. To give words to it all.
Not because her pain, her change, her life were unique. But because they weren’t.
If another woman read it and saw something of her own life, her own struggle, then that was what the book was for.
Logan took her hand as they walked through the parking lot, back toward their car.
“So the wedding isn’t until June, but I feel like we might want to take our honeymoon first.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. This October.”
“Why?”
