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I pull my wallet out of my bag to grab a tip for the driver. As I do, the glow-in-the dark moon tumbles onto my lap.
“What the hell?” I say, noticing for the first time that there’s writing on it.
I flip it sideways and read.
Wednesday, November 23rd
Ruined my lips.
12:30pm
I re-read the moon in my hand.
While others may wish on a shooting star, it's the moon that holds my dreams afar.
I clutch it to my chest and take a deep breath while trying to figure out why Aiden would’ve written that.
I grab my phone, look up the quote on the internet, and get no hits.
Did he make it up?
My mind wanders to my own wish in the moonlight.
I shake my head. It can’t be.
And if Aiden really did make a wish on the moon then it’s official.
Fate is a cold-hearted bitch just like Aphrodite.
If Aiden truly was my fate, then fate would’ve allowed us to meet later in life.
Under different circumstances.
When I had gotten my life back, or when I had finally accepted that I’d never get it back.
A morbid thought flits through my brain. That I might not be here later in life.
A big part of me wants to turn the car around and go back to Eastbrooke.
I look at my phone and consider calling him. Consider reading all of his texts. Listening to all of his voicemails.
Asking him why he wrote on the moon.
But I can’t.
I have to deal with Vincent first. I have to get my life back. And after that, I promised to give B a chance.
I need to forget about Aiden. Put Eastbrooke and the friends I made there behind me.
My leaving is for the best. For everyone’s best.
I’m just not sure what’s best for me.
I've been mulling over a lot of options. I’ve considered moving to my loft, getting my GED, and starting NYU in the fall. But that would mean hanging out with Jake and Dawson. It would mean coming in contact with new people. People who I couldn’t make friends with.
I quickly ruled out that option.
Besides, I’m not going back to my loft.
I can’t.
I’m pretty sure Aiden ruined it, just like he ruined my lips. I’ll put it on the market and forget about it too.
I run my hand over my new four-leaf clover necklace and say a little prayer.
My phone rings, so I stop praying and answer with a polite hello.
“Miss Monroe, this is Edward at Jet Co-op. Before you board, don’t forget to stop in the office and sign the new paperwork.”
“I won’t,” I say. But, obviously, I had forgotten.
I hang up and ask the driver to run me back to the office.
I get out of the car and pull my sunglasses over my eyes, partially to block the light and partially because I'm a little freaked out to even go inside. I’m worried Vincent sent my photo to every airport in America.
I put myself into my role. I’m not Keatyn Douglas who’s being stalked. I'm Keatyn Monroe who’s just an Eastbrooke student.
Was an Eastbrooke student, I think, suddenly fighting back tears.
I’m looking at the office building, but in my mind I’m seeing the beauty that is Eastbrooke. The gorgeous trees. The old brick buildings. The commons. The people. I’m really going to miss everyone. I hate that I didn’t give them proper goodbyes. I hate that I did that to them. And most of all, I hate that I’m reliving this moment again.
I was stupid to go to Eastbrooke. Anyone in their right mind should’ve seen the potential problems.
But we weren’t really in our right minds when we made the decision. We were scared.
And I’m done being that way.
It’s time to take control of my life.
It’s time to fight back.
I take a deep breath and breeze into the office like I don’t have a care in the world.
“I’m Keatyn Monroe.” I shake Edward's hand and then review the contract for the many additional hours that I purchased on a whim a couple of days ago. That was when one of my options included me turning the tables on Vincent and stalking him.
I decided that might not be my smartest idea ever.
Besides, a new plan is starting to take root. Cooper and me on a farm in Iowa, way out in the country. Lots of acres where we can set up a firing range. A barn we can turn into a training facility. Maybe a few chickens, a cow, and a vegetable garden so that we would never have to leave. We could grow everything we eat.
Okay, maybe not. I don’t think I could kill a chicken.
Or a carrot.
I think I’d prefer to buy my food already dead.
I’ve thought about marrying Cooper. Going Amish.
Living out my life in hiding.
I’m also strongly considering faking my own death.
I’d hate to do that to my family but if I did, I could kill Vincent. My family wouldn’t have me, but they’d have their lives back. I could watch the girls grow up from afar.
Then, maybe I could become the CIA’s youngest operative. Cooper and I could travel the world and spy.
I bet he’d look damn hot in a tuxedo.
Oooh, I know. I’m going to watch Triple X on the plane.
Oh, the things I’m go
While Edward goes in the back to make a copy for my records, I hear two ladies at the next counter gossiping about who’s going to star in the next best-selling book turned movie.
One of them holds out a magazine. “Here, you can read this on your lunch break. Did you see the cover? I can't believe how scary ski
“I wouldn’t care what Tommy did as long as I could get a piece of that fine man. I’m not greedy. I’d be more than willing to share,” she says with a chuckle.
“You’re bad.”
“But honest,” she says as she wanders off with her lunch bag. “Besides, I read that this morning.”
I wander over and help myself to a bottle of water from the self-service bar, glancing at the photo on the magazine.
I think back to Vancouver. I noticed Mom looked thin, but she looks even ski
I get my paperwork back from Edward, step outside, and call Tommy.
I’ll use this situation to set the first part of my plan in motion.
“I saw that magazine cover of Mom. She looks even thi
“I’m worried about her too,” Tommy replies. “This thing. The guilt. The fear. The lying. It's eating her alive.”
“You're almost done filming in Vancouver, right?”
“Yeah, we wrap up this week and then I’m scheduled to start Trinity 3: Retribution in New York with Matt.”
“And she’s supposed to start her publicity tour for To Maddie, with Love, right?”
“Yeah. That’s why she hasn’t been eating or sleeping. She’s so afraid that all the press and promotion will really send Vincent over the edge.”
“Cancel the tour. Break her contract. Pay them whatever you have to, Tommy. Get her out of it.”
“I’ve considered that.”
“You have to do more than consider it. You have to convince her. And I know you two don’t like to be apart, but you shouldn’t bring her and the girls to New York. Send them to France with James and don’t tell anyone. Lie. Say she’s sick. Say she’s in rehab. Hire a battalion to guard the grounds if you have to, but I know she’ll feel safe there.”
“She’s supposed to start another movie soon.”