Page 72 of The Write Midlife

She patted his knee consolingly. "Darling, I'm your mother. It's my job to meddle in your love life. Especially when said love life is so intricately tangled with your professional life."

He buried his face in his hands, mumbling. "I should have added alcohol to my coffee this morning."

“Yes, you should have,” she said plainly. "But before you go making your coffee any more Irish, let me ask you this: When you picture this new company, this future you're fighting for, is Melody in that picture?"

He looked up, meeting her gaze. And suddenly, with a clarity that took his breath away, he saw it. He saw late nights poring over manuscripts, heated debates over comma placement, shared triumphs and setbacks. He saw Melody, her eyes sparkling with passion as she argued for an unconventional plot twist. He saw a future where work and love weren't separate entities, but two halves of a whole.

"Yes," he whispered, the realization hitting him like a freight train. “It’s crazy. It’s screwed up. And it sure as shit doesn’t make any sense considering that she’s storming out of my office just as many times as she’s walked into it. But truth be told, I can't imagine doing this without her."

Mom's smile was warm and knowing. "Then I think you have your answer, don't you?" She stood, smoothing out her suit. "Well, this has been illuminating. I'll leave you to your packing and plotting. Just promise me one thing, Nathaniel."

"What's that?"

"Whatever you decide to do, make sure it's what you truly want. Not what you think your father wants, or what you think I want, or even what you think Melody wants. Follow your heart, but take your brain with you."

He nodded, his throat suddenly dry. "Thanks, Mom. For everything."

She pulled him into a hug, and for a moment, he was a little boy again, safe in his mother's arms. "That's what mothers are for, darling. Now go make some trouble. It's about time this industry got shaken up a bit."

After she left, he stood in the middle of his box-strewn office, his mind racing. He had been so focused on what he was leaving behind, he hadn't fully grasped what he was moving towards. A new company. A new future. A chance to reshape the industry he loved.

And Melody. Always, always Melody.

He pulled out his phone, his fingers hovering over her contact info. This was bigger than a text or a phone call. This was... well, he wasn't sure what it was yet. But he knew he wanted to find out.

He grabbed his keys, a plan forming in his mind. It was time to stop hiding behind boxes and maybe. Time to take a leap of faith.

Now, if he could just find his wallet in this cardboard jungle, he'd be all set to face whatever came next.

Wish me luck, universe. I have a feeling I'm going to goddamned need it.

THIRTY-NINE

Melody stoodin front of her closet, staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror. Her hair, usually a rebellious mop, had been tamed into something resembling a professional style. The gray strands stood out even more, and they complemented the dress she had chosen. Something sleek and black—very author-chic, or so she hoped. But the woman looking back at her seemed like a stranger, her eyes wide with a mix of excitement and terror.

"Alright, Archer," she said to her reflection. "You've faced scarier things than a room full of book lovers. Like that time you accidentally used your steamy first draft as scrap paper for your grocery list."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach. Tonight was the launch of the pre-order of the book.

Olivia and Jake’s novel,No Good Deed.

The one Nate and she had written together. Though the pre-order was not the official launch, it did mark the first day that readers could purchase the book in advance. It should be the happiest night of her life. So why did she feel like she was about to walk the plank?

Her phone buzzed, and she grabbed it, half-hoping it was Nate. But it was just another congratulatory message from Carmen. She had barely heard from Nate since their last conversation about his fallout with his father. The radio silence was deafening, and a nagging part of her wondered if he was having second thoughts about... well, everything.

A knock at the door startled her out of her spiral of doubt. Expecting it to be Hannah, coming to drag her to the pre-order launch by force if necessary, she flung open the door without checking.

"I swear, Hannah, if you try to make me wear those death trap heels again, I'll – oh."

She stopped short, her mouth hanging open. Because standing in her doorway, looking every inch the publishing mogul in a tailored suit, was Elizabeth Carlisle.

She breathed in a familiar scent—lavender and Earl Grey tea. For a moment, her heart stuttered. That’s why she had been so waylaid by Madame Carlisle when they first met. It was the exact combination Mom used to wear.

"Ms. Archer," Elizabeth said, her voice warm like Mom's used to be when she'd find her writing at 3 AM. "I hope I'm not interrupting your pre-preorder panic attack."

She blinked, suddenly very aware that she was only wearing one shoe. "Mrs. Carlisle! I, uh... no, not interrupting at all. Just having a perfectly normal meltdown. The usual pre-book launch jitters."

Elizabeth's eyebrow arched in a way that was eerily reminiscent of Nate. "Indeed. May I come in?"