Six months later...
Talk shows were hounding Madison left and right for an interview. With the book finally released to an eager public and her national tour to promote it starting in only a few days, everyone wanted their own small piece of the fame, even Sam.
"You still there, Mad?" he asked.
"Yeah, sorry," Madison blinked, switching the phone to rest against her shoulder and her other ear. "I'm just a little out of it; the phone hasn't stopped ringing for a week."
He made a sympathetic noise in his throat, then said, "Read it again." Madison groaned. "Come on, please?"
She wearily flipped through her author's copy of Heavy Rain: the compilation of countless late nights spent writing, editing, and suffering two anxiety attacks as a result of re-living those terrible experiences that seemed so much more real now than they had at the time. It was exhausting in every sense of the word. Finally, she found the page she was looking for.
"'Special thanks to my good friend, Sam,'" Madison read aloud. "'Without whom none of this would have been possible. His invaluable insight and constant support have helped me in more ways than I can put into words. I will never be able to repay him.'" It was a long acknowledgement, but a necessary one.
"Aw, aren't you sweet." She could hear the smile in his voice. It had been a while since she'd heard it.
The divorce was finalized two weeks earlier. Ironically, the whole process had caused the two of them to spend more time together than when they were married. They often found themselves at his apartment, filling out paperwork over coffee or wine. Sometimes it got so late that Kathy stayed the night. It was torture for him, because he loved her and this was what he'd always hoped their relationship could be. But no matter how amicable those evenings were or how typically erratic Kathy's behavior was, she seemed to genuinely want this.
It was a relatively smooth process once all the legal stuff was out of the way. Kathy turned out to be more than willing to give most of their financial assets to him. The last Madison had heard of her, she ran off to Amsterdam or something. The woman lived in her own little world most of the time. It was impossible for anyone else to understand exactly how her reasoning worked. Jayden tried once, but all he had to offer were a bunch of fancy psychological terms that Madison wasn't familiar with anyway.
Her eyes ran down the list of names until she spotted Jayden's. The acknowledgement for him was short, simple, to the point, but it was exactly what she needed to say and was unable to.
Thank you for believing in me. I don't know where I'd be without you.
)O(
Book signings, as she was quickly learning, were very repetitive things. At first it was exciting and flattering, but after a while the continuous praise and admiration lost its novelty. She felt bad about it, since all these people had come out specifically to meet her, but her lips hurt from smiling for them. Madison had signed her name so many times today that the motion was practically automatic.
"Enjoying the love of your devoted fans?" Jayden asked. He held out a copy of her book.
Madison blinked. "You want me to sign it?"
"Of course." he smirked. "It's worth more that way." She rolled her eyes, but signed her name anyway along with a particularly bitchy comment that made him laugh. "You look burnt-out. Let me at least get you some coffee."
"That's your solution for everything."
"It's not a solution." Jayden replied, suddenly quite serious. "But it's good enough for now."
Madison eventually relented and he went off to find caffeine for her. The line kept moving with no end in sight. She let herself zone out a bit. It didn't take much focus to write her name as well as whatever else people told her to. After that you just had to thank the person and repeat.
"We need more journalists like you, Ms. Paige."
"Thank you."
"You're an inspiration, Ms. Paige."
"Thank you."
"Well, I guess you finally got your story."
The words died on her tongue as she looked up. He stood there stoically, his hood covering his head so he wouldn't be recognized. If it weren't for his voice, she might not have known who he was either. The last time she'd seen him, he had been broken, injured, and so horribly angry. Plus, he'd had a beard.
But it was him. Madison had to take a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart. When at last she could speak, her voice trembled.
"Ethan..."