Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 117601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
“And I hate the idea of you dying on me from cancer.” I tug at his tie playfully, biting on his lower lip. “So deal.”
It was on the second anniversary of Dom’s death that Joe decided to quit smoking to honor his brother’s fight against cancer. It’s been three months now, and Joe is still bitter about the whole thing.
I pick up the book sitting on the nightstand next to us. For Ever is literary fiction with a dash of mystery, a few twists and turns, and a lot of self-search. Joe changed the hero’s name to Ever—Everett—but every time I think about the new title, I know that it was a nod to me. We helped each other create when birthing something new seemed as wild as learning how to fly.
I run my palm over the hardcover. It’s blue and red, with the New Orleans landscape in the background. “I love everything about this book.”
“Of course you do.” Joe kisses my cheek, then takes the book and shoves it into a drawer. He is still embarrassed to call himself an author. “It is an elaborate love letter to you.”
“It’s about a guy who has one year to live, and he fucks the entire world in the process.” I frown.
“Yeah, well.” Joe waves a hand. “All the rest of it.”
We go down in the elevators. A maître d’ greets us at the front of the Vine. A black-and-gold room with elevator music and utensil-clicking sounds. Joe’s fingers float over the small of my back, which is exposed through a backless black dress. The hostess shows us to a long table, where, already waiting, are Gemma, Brad, Dad, Donna, Renn, Sarah, her husband, Rich, Nora (happily married), Colt (obviously ditto), and Pippa, who brought along a brand-new boyfriend whose name I refuse to remember until he passes the three-week test.
There is also Joe’s agent, Bianca, and a suit from his publishing house, who came with his wife and a monstrous stack of books for Joe to sign.
When they see my boyfriend, they all stand up and clap. Our table draws curious glances from other diners. I take Joe’s hand and raise it in the air in triumph, because it is a huge win that he managed to get his book published. He has already signed another book deal with the same publisher.
The New York Minute called For Ever “evocative and wild.” The Flying Pen said, “Joseph Graves is a master storyteller,” and Books Tribune called the novel “exhilarating and unforgettable.” Joe may be too humble to see himself as a successful author, but I, an (almost) objective observer, can tell he is already there.
“I still can’t believe I’m sleeping with a literary god,” I murmur into Joe’s ear as we proceed to our place at the table. He is shaking hands with people and whispers back through a tightly woven smile, “I can’t believe it either. Who are you cheating on me with?”
I laugh and yank him down to sit next to me, but he remains standing. I look up at him. He picks up a bottle of wine and pours a glass for me and a glass for him. Then he grabs his glass and clinks a fork over it.
“Is there a speech?” Brad asks, midbite into the complimentary baguette.
“There must be a speech.” Gemma wrenches the rest of the bread from between her husband’s fingers.
“Please tell me it’s going to be short. I’m starving.” Renn slumps in his seat. “My body’s still on the Pacific time zone. I think I missed, like, two meals.”
“Patience, kiddo.” Joe points at Renn with his wineglass. “And there is no speech. Just a realization I would like to share with you a minute before this book comes out and I officially become a national embarrassment.”
We all wait to hear what he has to say. For Ever is dedicated to Dominic. It was Joe’s idea. Once the anger and disappointment had made their way through our systems, acceptance and forgiveness came next. Not that Dom had a chance to ask for any of those things. But see, forgiving people who hurt us is not about those people at all. It is about choosing to move on with our lives. Letting go of the grudges. Healing without depending on someone else’s journey.
“Well, I’m not getting any younger,” Pippa points out with a sweet fake smile, raising her cocktail in a toast. “Give us the deets, Joe.”
Joe looks down at me and smiles. My heart expands in my chest. I’m so proud of us. Of the road less traveled we have both taken to get here. We still haven’t reached our final destination, but wherever we go—we’re going together.
He opens his mouth, his eyes zeroing in on mine.
“The past two decades have been a crazy ride from start to finish. A lot has happened. But one thing stayed through it all. It made it possible, even when things seemed impossible. And that thing is called hope. Hope made me realize something important. The one thing that makes a person rich is not their money, or their talent, or even their connections. It is their hope. Where there is hope, there is life. And where there is life, anything is possible. I owe my hope to one special person. She is here today, and I have a feeling she’ll be here for a very long time. Which is good, because no one knows what tomorrow will bring. All I know is that tomorrow, life is going to change. Not only for me. For Ever.”