Copyright 2018 by Colleen Hoover

because of stress? Did I feel guilty for being with her husband?
I lay in bed for a while this morning, not wanting to leave the room. Jeremy
left my bed sometime around four this morning. I heard him lock the door, then
he texted me a minute later and told me to text if I needed him again.
Sometime after lunch today, Jeremy knocked on the door to the office. When
he came inside, he looked like he hadn’t slept. He hasn’t slept much this week at
all because of me. From his point of view, I’m a hysterical mess of a woman
who wakes up in his wife’s bed in the middle of the night and then claims I see
his wife standing at the top of the stairs after he finally kisses me.
I thought he had come to the office to ask me to leave, and honestly, I’m
more than ready to go, but the money still hasn’t hit my account. I’m kind of
stuck here until it does.
He had come to my office to let me know he got another lock. For Verity’s
door this time.
“I thought it might help you sleep. Knowing there’s no way she could leave
the room if that were even possible.”
If that were even possible.
“I’ll only lock it at night, when we’re asleep,” he continues. “I told April her
door comes open at night because of drafts in the house. I don’t want her to think
it’s there for any other reason.”
I thanked him, but after he’d gone, I didn’t feel reassured at all. Because part
of me worried that he’d put the lock there because he was worried. Of course I
wanted him to believe me, but if he believed me, that meant it might be true.
In this case, I would rather be wrong than right.
I’m struggling with what to do with Verity’s manuscript now. I want Jeremy
to understand his wife in the way that I now understand her. I feel like he

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deserves to know what she did to his girls, especially since Crew spends so
much time up there with her. And I’m still full of suspicion since he spoke of
Verity talking to him. I know he’s only five, so there’s a chance he was
confused, but if there’s even a remote possibility that Verity could be faking it,
Jeremy deserves to know.
But I haven’t worked up the courage to give the manuscript to him yet
because it is just a remote possibility that she’s faking it. It would be more
plausible to believe I was seeing things due to exhaustion and sleep deprivation
than it would be to think a woman could fake a disability of that extent for
months on end. Without any apparent reason.
There’s also the fact that I haven’t finished it yet. I don’t know how it ends. I
don’t know what happened to Harper or Chastin, or if the timeline of this
manuscript even covers those events.
There isn’t much left to read. I’ll probably only be able to digest one chapter
before needing to take a break from the horror of this manuscript. I make sure
the door to the office is closed, and I start the next chapter and decide to skip it,
along with several others. I don’t even want to read about a simple kiss, much
less more sex. I don’t want to ruin the kiss we shared by reading about him
doing that with another woman.
When I’ve skipped yet another intimate scene and reach the chapter I feel
may be an explanation for Chastin’s death, I double-check the office door again
before starting it.

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So Be It
I got pregnant with Crew within two weeks of lying to Jeremy about my
pregnancy. It’s as if fate were on my side. I thanked God with a prayer, even
though I don’t believe he had a hand in it.
Crew was a good baby (I’m assuming). By that point, I was making so much
money, I was able to afford a full-time nanny at our new house. Jeremy was
staying home with the kids after quitting his job and didn’t think a nanny was
really necessary, so I called the nanny our housekeeper, but she was a nanny.
She enabled Jeremy to work on the property every day. I had new windows
installed in my office so I could watch him from almost every angle.
Life was good for a while. I did all the easy parts of mothering and Jeremy
and the nanny did all the hard parts. And I traveled a lot. I had book tours and
interviews, which I didn’t really like leaving Jeremy for, but he preferred to stay
home with the kids. I grew to appreciate those breaks, though. I noticed when I
was gone for a week, the attention Jeremy gave me when I returned home was
like the attention he used to pay me before the kids came along.
Sometimes I would lie and say I was needed in New York, but I would hole
up in an Airbnb in Chelsea and watch television for a week. Then I’d go home,
and Jeremy would fuck me like I was his virgin. Life was great.