by C. M. Albert
I laughed. “Of course. In fact, that’s sorta what I wanted to tell you.”
“Okay.”
“I’m all kinds of smooth, aren’t I?” I joked. Maybe I was a little nervous. I’d grown up living with the best examples of love you could find. Our parents taught me and Munch early on to trust our instincts, put yourself out there, not to fear love, and when you found it—hold on with both hands.
“I love you,” I said, letting it spill out before I lost my nerve. It was the first time I ever said it to anyone in this way.
Hannah grinned, pulling me in close to lay one on me again. She kissed me until I was breathless and dizzy and didn’t know which end was up. “Girl, I love you too. I’ve been waiting for you to say that forever.”
“You could’ve said it first, you know.”
“Sometimes, a girl likes to be wooed,” she joked.
“Uh, yeah, but I’m a girl too.”
“Well, good thing we don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
Then she swatted my backside before giving me space. I took a deep breath. The rope was thicker than I expected and coarse. I prayed I could hold on long enough and drop at the right time. Mom told us when we were younger how long to count before letting go.
Images of my mom and dad played through my head like a movie as I psyched myself up to go. We’d heard all their stories while growing up. So much so it sometimes felt like I was there. I pulled the rope all the way back and closed my eyes, then thought of my OG dad. Even though I’d never met him in person, we had a special bond that transcended time. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt like I really knew him. I couldn’t wait to read his letter and get to know him even better.
Ryan Marshall Wells.
I opened my eyes and smiled at Hannah.
“This one’s for you, Dad,” I said. I ran as fast I could toward the edge of the cliff.
Then, I flew.
Ryan’s Letter
My Darling Daughter,
They say pain ebbs and flows over time, until one day, you find yourself accidentally living in joy again. Then each step from there is a little bit easier. The end goal? Being back to normal, I suppose. There’s an old saying that goes—maybe you aren’t really buried in a pile of manure; you’re really just waiting to bloom.
Your mom and I had a few rough years before I died, ebbing and flowing through more pain than one couple deserves. This is the story about how your mom and I found ourselves living in joy again, despite all the manure life tried throwing our way.
Now, this isn’t a typical love story. It ends with my death, after all. But here’s the truth about love, kiddo: love never dies.
And you were our bloom.
So, sit back, get cozy, and keep an open mind.
It all started with what I like to call, the Brighton Effect . . .
The End
Read Next
If you loved The Truth About Love duet, you’ll love my Arden’s Glen Romance series, where small town meets big heat, leaving readers believing in love again. Start with Faith in Love today. Flip the page for a sneak peek at the first chapter.
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Faith in Love Sample
Chapter One
Arden’s Glen Romance, Book 1
“FOR THE LOVE of God,” Egan groaned, smashing his fist down onto the snooze button a little harder than necessary. He pulled a soft feather pillow over his head, wishing to delay the inevitable: the start of another boring day in Corporate America. He jumped when a small, feminine hand lifted the corner of the pillow, Macy peering in at him.
“Hey, sleepyhead. Thought you had a big meeting today? I hear there’s this sexy PR babe who’s meeting with your firm.” Her blue eyes crinkled as her lips curled into a grin. They’d been friends for more than four years now; the lover thing was both sporadic and temporary. They agreed to a no-strings-attached, friends-with-benefits relationship until one of them found “the one.” Egan knew Macy would be the first to go; he had no intention of ever loving again. No way. His heart would never be whole enough to love again after the devastation his family had been through.
Egan snatched the pillow back down, wishing it would all just go away. The stress. The pain. His heart physically ached most days; he imagined it all hollowed out and barren, like a cold, empty cave. It was all he could do to get through another mind-numbing workday without losing it. Egan glanced over at Macy with her tousled blond hair and fresh morning face. She was a pretty girl, and they certainly had fun together. It would just never be more than that, for either of them. But in the meantime . . . he cast his pillow to the floor and wiggled his eyebrows in her direction.
Macy shrieked and grabbed her pillow for cover. “Uh-uh, mister. We’ve both got to get moving this morning, and I know what that look means.” She playfully swatted him with her pillow when he rolled on top of her, but it quickly fell aside as his mouth crashed down and consumed hers. Her lips were warm and soft, inviting. His hands found her hair, and he moaned when she reached around and grabbed a handful of his naked butt, digging in her fingers as the kiss deepened.
Yeah, this is way better than getting to work on time. Egan closed his eyes and blocked his heart, letting only his body give way to the heat of Macy’s familiar touch.
EGAN STROLLED INTO his office an hour late. Even though it was a friendly good-morning tumble, he still took his time and made Macy feel appreciated. She was a gorgeous woman, after all. He raised his espresso shot to his lips, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smirk as he remembered the satisfied look on Macy’s face when she’d hugged him goodbye and headed two doors down to her own brownstone earlier that morning.
Dropping his laptop bag onto his desk and setting his coffee aside, Egan picked up his work phone and dialed in to listen to his messages. The first was from his mother, frantic because she couldn’t find the dog again and Egan hadn’t answered his cell phone earlier. Egan sighed, his brows furrowing as he listened to her ramble on about where on earth Ozzie could have gone. By the end of the call, she was crying, begging for him to come to the house to look for the little terrier, and Egan’s head pounded with the start of a tension headache.
He hung up before listening to the other messages, calling his mother from the landline.
“Hello?” she answered tentatively.
“Hey, Mom, it’s Egan.” He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. Of course it was Egan. He was her only son left. Stupid, stupid. “Sorry . . .” he trailed off, knowing there was nothing else to say to cover for his slipup. He could hear the soft sobs coming from the other end of the line. “Mom, I’m at work, but I got your message about Ozzie. Are you okay? Have you been taking your medication?”
“Of course I have, dear. I just went for a little walk this morning and accidentally left the back door open while I was gone. It could have happened to anyone.”
Egan groaned, running his hand through his short brown hair. She was getting worse; that much was clear. “Mom, where are you now? Are you at home?”
“Of course I am. Where else would I be?” she snapped, his sweet mother gone for the moment.
“Mom, you don’t have to worry about Ozzie anymore, okay? She’s gone, remember?” His voice caught on the word gone. He stared out his office window, tears threatening to muddle his million-dollar view of the Hudson. His mind was no longer on Ozzie but on his little brother, Declan. He remembered him not how he last saw him—rigid, pale, empty—but from the last day they spent together, listening to music on the lawn at Central Park. He could still recall the moment of peace on his brother’s teenage face as he smiled up at the sun, his feet bopping along to his favorite Flogging Molly song playing on his phone. It was the first time he’d seen Declan smile in a long time. It was also the
last. That was two years ago, but it still felt like yesterday. The coffee in Egan’s stomach churned, and he felt like he was going to be sick.
“MacGuire!” A voice boomed from down the hallway, pulling Egan from his memories as a thin veil of pain settled back over his heart. “MacGuire, where the hell are you?”
Egan glanced down at his watch, his mother still talking to him through the receiver, though he hadn’t even noticed. “Uh, Mom, I really have to go. Can I call you back after work?” He didn’t wait for an answer but slammed the receiver down and turned to face his office door just as his boss’s thick frame crossed the threshold.
Egan knew it spelled trouble when Reid Patterson came all the way in and closed the door behind him. Oh, shit! Egan vaguely remembered the meeting he was supposed to be at this morning. The one Macy had reminded him of in bed. He groaned. Reid would be royally pissed if he messed up this deal for the firm. Macy had a strong reputation of working with celebrities and public relations involving charitable work. She was the perfect answer to their current public image nightmare.
“Before you say anything, Reid, I know I messed up. This is totally my fault. I fucked up,” Egan began.
“You bet your ass you did, MacGuire. I have legal in there, the marketing team, that PR maven we’ve been wooing, Human Resources, everyone—except you. This is the third meeting this month that you’ve blown off. But this was the big one. You know how much we need a new level of PR for this campaign. Our image has been backsliding ever since the merger, and we need to get some good news out there fast. And I have you strolling in here late most days, missing meetings, holding your dick in your hands when it comes to your job—”
“Whoa, hold on now, boss.” Egan held up his hands to his friend and senior executive. “You know damn well I’ve been doing the best I can, giving as much as I can to this job. It hasn’t exactly been the easiest few years for me, Reid.”
Reid shook his head slowly. “I know, but it’s not enough, Egan. Not anymore. I have corporate breathing down my neck, demanding a home run with some new PR to cover all these merger-related fuckups. I have overlapping personnel. I have budgets for programs that you are supposed to be managing with funds still waiting to be dispersed through the grant programs. Your head’s not in the game anymore, Egan. You’re like a walking zombie these days, man. You come in, do what you can to scrape by, and leave. Where’s your fire gone?”
They stared each other down, silent. Egan’s mind raced. This cannot be happening. Reid knew damn well what happened to the passion that used to fuel Egan. It died along with two of the most important people in his life.
Egan crossed his arms over his chest, his fingers twitching. He could not screw up this job any further. He’d started at LivTech Financial right after graduating with his MBA from Wharton. His father had been a corporate investment banker with the number one bank in the US at the time. He’d pulled some serious strings to get Egan a VIP pass through the front door of one of his company’s top clients and straight into his dream job in corporate philanthropy. He’d been managing multimillion-dollar campaigns for the past six years and had earned many awards for his ingenuity in creative partnerships with charitable organizations across the globe.
Egan swallowed hard. None of that mattered if he couldn’t do some of his own damage control. He scratched the back of his neck as he spoke. “Look, Reid, I know I messed up. Big time.” Egan paced his spacious office, nerves jumping across his skin. “I’m sorry. You know what I’ve been dealing with since Dad and Declan died. I’m trying . . . I really am. It won’t happen again.”
He hated the look of pity that flashed across his friend’s face. But there it was. Reid put one of his meaty hands on Egan’s shoulders, squaring his body so they now faced each other eye to eye. “You have to take a break, man. You can’t keep going like this. I’ve protected you as much as I can. I don’t want to let you go, but it’s the next step. You know it is.”
The shock and pain couldn’t have hurt more than if Reid had just gone ahead and kicked him straight in the balls. The air in the office felt thin, as if it were evaporating. He struggled to get his breathing under control so that he seemed calmer than the insane panic that was rising inside of him. “Look, it won’t happen again.”
“Egan—” Reid lowered his normally loud voice to a whisper, aware of the people glancing in at them through the interior glass windows framing Egan’s thirtieth-floor office space. “Take a short-term leave of absence, please, for your sake. I won’t fire you—yet. Just take a personal leave and get your shit together. On a personal level, I know these past few years have been hell on you. Fuck, I couldn’t have gone through the losses you have and still be standing either. It only makes sense. You never took the time you needed to grieve. You are running on fumes, and your heart hasn’t been here in a long time.” Reid dropped his hand, shoving it into the pocket of his crisp navy suit pants. “Take six weeks. I can’t promise this exact job will be waiting for you when you get back, but it’s better than me letting you go for good right now. It’s the best I can do, my friend. I’m sorry.”
Egan stood in stunned silence as Reid dropped some paperwork onto his desk and headed toward the door. He turned around and said, “Have these filled out by noon and your workload handed off to Estella by four. Your leave starts today.”
Egan sank into his leather chair and spun around to face the Hudson. Thousands of people as small as ants rushed through the network of streets below him. I just lost my motherfucking job. No, not lost it. A leave. Egan grabbed his espresso and chugged the last bit before throwing his Styrofoam cup across the room and missing his intended shot into the trash can. He looked around the room that had been like a second home for the past six years, especially during those darkest first days after Declan’s death when he buried himself in his work to escape. His heart seemed to close the last inch he had left open as he picked up his LivTech pen, signed the forms, and kissed his dream job goodbye.
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Afterword
Dear Readers,
Where do I even begin? If it makes you feel better, my editor still doesn’t forgive me for the ending of the book (said mostly in jest) – but like most readers, she understands why it needed to end this way. It may take you longer to get there, or you may never get there, and that’s okay. This duet is definitely not for the faint of heart. Since the first page of The Truth Pact, these characters have asked you to go on an unbelievably painful journey with them that stretched their ideas about love, grief, and healing. It changed them, and I’m sure it’s made you do a lot of reflection as well. Whether you hate them, love them, want to scream, cry, rejoice, or feel bittersweet about where their journey took you and ended for them, one thing is for sure – hopefully, it’s one you’ll never forget.
Even as the writer, these characters challenged everything I thought I knew about where this story was going. It didn’t end at all like I’d plotted it out at the beginning. I had hard boundaries about intimacy, love, and the final outcome. But no matter how hard I tried, I knew I needed to lean into the characters and write their story the way they wanted it told. And that’s what I did. Don’t get me wrong. I spent many days crying over certain scenes and the overall intensity of this duet, too. These were, hands down, the hardest two books I’ve ever written—but also the ones that will never leave me.
Because I was right there with them in all the feels of their love just as strongly as their grief. And nothing made me happier than the chemistry that flowed between them when they were together and happy. And that bright love with no boundaries or limitations is what I will carry in my heart forever when I think about Liv, Ryan, and Brighton.
There are two quotes from Disney’s WandaVision that speak to
me so much about the intention behind The Truth About Love duet, and I hope they speak to your heart, too.
“But what is grief, if not love persevering?”
“True love does not have a happy ending, because true love never ends.”
All I know for sure is that Liv and Ryan may not have meant for their life to change the way it did after meeting Brighton and letting him in, but I believe they changed and grew for the better as a result. Even until his last breath, Ryan felt nothing but the strongest love for the two people closest to him. Not everyone will understand their love or accept how unconventional it was. But it was their love.
And true love never dies.
For those who want to take a deeper dive, I have The Truth About Love Duet Book Club Q&A on my Web site at www.colleenalbert.com. It holds some additional answers and deeper discussion that you may be looking for after this raw and emotional journey. And if that’s not your thing, but you still want to vent, decompress, or have a place to process all the big feels with other readers, we also have the TBE Spoiler Group on Facebook waiting for you. And we gotchu, Boo. I promise!
Thank you for all the amazing reviews, private feedback, personal stories, social media shares, and recommendations for this duet. I have learned so much about my readers and cherish each one of you who has reached out to me with your heart and feelings on your sleeve to share them with me. I will hold the space for you, just as I asked you to hold it for Liv, Ryan, and Brighton.
Thank you so much for going on this crazy, emotional journey with me.