My phone is about to die. I'll call you later.

I type back a quick, okay, to Rissa and then sigh as I lean against the comfy rose couch. I've been coming to the 'meeting house,' as Rissa calls it, to write. I get more inspiration here than I do at my apartment.

This place, like Rissa, is full of life, whereas my apartment is void of emotion, much like I was just a few short months ago. I'm in a bit of an impasse now, though. I have the bulk of the story written, and I'm nearing the end. That's where the problem lies. I don't know how to wrap it up.

I suppose it'll be easier when the solo experiment is officially over, but I still have no idea when that will be. Maybe this weekend will help. Rissa has needed to face her parents for some time now. I know it won't be easy, but she can handle it. She is strong enough, and she's finally realizing that. I do wish she wanted me there, though. I want her to need me, but that defeats the purpose of all the inner work she's been doing, and I feel selfish even thinking that way.

Sitting back and waiting for her to find the answers is getting harder. I long for the Saturdays I get to spend with her, but that one day is never enough. I want so much more than what we have right now.

I don't understand what she's missing or why that last piece she needs hasn't clicked into place yet. Until now, I've been able to help guide her towards those answers, but this is one I don't have. She has to find it. I tell myself she just needs time, but she's thriving in nearly every other aspect of her life. Sometimes, my insecurities get the better of me, and I wonder if it's me.

Is she not ready because she doubts us making it as a couple?

My phone buzzes, and I'm stunned to see Serena is calling.

"Hello?"

She laughs. "I caught you off guard."

"You could say that. What's going on?" I didn't forgive her so we could become friendly. I did it to close the chapter...I assumed she understood that.

"I know this is inappropriate, but I didn't know who else to call. My book was torn apart today," she lets out a rough sigh. "I don't know how to fix it, and I thought... maybe you could help me. I know you're busy with your book. If you could just skim it, any advice would help."

"You want me to help you with your book?" It's good that I'm sitting; otherwise, I'd have fallen over. Admitting she needs help is hard for Serena, and I do feel a nudge of empathy for her.

"They said it read like a textbook, and that it was the most boring thing they've ever had to read."

"Ouch," I wince for her.

"You told me your book won't be in competition with mine anymore, so I thought maybe I could ask you... and now I realize I shouldn't have. I'm sorry I bothered you."

"I'll help you. Why don't you email it to me? I'll skim through it and call you back."

"Really? Oh, Conner, that would be amazing. Are you sure, though? I know you're busy with your book."

"All I have left to write is the ending, and every time I try, I stare at a blank page for hours. The distraction might be helpful."

****

Several hours later, I am yawning as I struggle through Serena's book. It does read like a textbook; there's no structure to it and no voice to carry it through. Thinking back now, she was the one who provided the knowledge but really needed me to turn it into something readable.

She needs a lot more than advice. This, as it is right now, won't sell...

As I prepare to call her with my harsh but honest assessment, I'm surprised to find that I have empathy for her. Months ago, I would have been secretly happy to see her fail, karma, and all that. But all those old bitter feelings seem to have floated away, leaving a memory that is just that. It's like a scar. You see it and remember how you got it, but it doesn't hurt anymore.

"You called fast. It's not good, is it?" Serena answers with a hint of vulnerability in her tone. I imagine she's on edge right now. She hates showing anything she considers a weakness.

"It lacks a voice, and there is no story structure–" I begin.

"It's self-help, not entertainment," she protests.

"Even self-help needs those things, Serena. You have to find a way to teach while still making it interesting," I argue. "The assessment of it reading like a textbook was spot on. I almost fell asleep just skimming it."

"Don't sugarcoat it," she scoffs.

"Would you want me to?"

"No," she admits with a huffy breath. "What do I do?"

"You need to partner with a writer, but this time, ask your team to help connect you with someone. Do not go looking for someone yourself, and keep it professional."

"You don't think I can do it on my own?"

"No." There was no point in lying to her. "I think the information in the book is great. You know what you're talking about and how to help people, but you need to figure out how to get your voice across. It comes off as very robotic and impersonal. A writer can help you with that."

"That's going to be a problem for me. I'm good at relationship advice when it comes to other people because it's something I can study, analyze, and then provide an assessment on. You know better than anyone that I'm a horrible example when it comes to my own relationships." She pauses for a long moment. "What if that means I have no voice, no way to tell this story?"

"You have a voice, but to find it, you have to face yourself, even the things you don't like about it. People relate to that much more than perfection," I tell her. "Start there and return to the story with a fresher take. Then work with a writer, and you'll have your bestseller, Serena. You just have to be patient and do the work first."

"You've gotten smart at this stuff, maybe smarter than me," she comments. "Why steer away from self-help?"

"It– still is self-help, but not at the same time," I explain as best I can without giving away the plot entirely. "Rissa took center stage once I started to write it, and suddenly, one day, I had this epiphany of how to tell this story, and it all changed."

"You said you're stuck on the ending? Maybe I can help?"

"I don't think anyone can," I say as my gaze drifts over to the build-a-bears sitting cutely cuddled up on a decorative wooden rocking chair we got from that antique store at the ski lodge. "I don't think I'll know the ending until we get there."

"We?" I can actually hear her eyebrow raise with the one-word question. "Didn't you say this was all about her?"

"I mean, it is, yeah.... but I've been part of it. I was right there helping her as she dug deep and found all these things about herself. I feel like, as she grew, so did I, in different ways and..." I nearly smack my hand over my head. What am I doing? Word vomiting, all this to Serena, all people?

"You're falling for your subject, Conner." Serena's tone takes on a warning tone that freezes my blood.

"I – it's not like that," I stammer out the lie, and she laughs softly.

"I hear it in your tone, and I understand it. It's only natural for you to feel protective of her, and sometimes those feelings can get confusing–"

"No," I cut her off. "They— it's real, what's happening. I'm not confused, and it's not one-sided."

"Conner." There's that warning tone again. "I'm sure you signed paperwork to prevent this exact thing from happening?"

"Yes, but we're not officially going there right now. We're respecting the agreement and waiting for the book to be finished before anything goes public. Plus Rissa..." I let that thought trail off.

"Rissa, what?"

"She's not ready to stop solo dating yet," I painfully confess. "She's come so far and is doing so well. Even admitting her feelings for me was such a huge thing for her. I think maybe she's scared, but I don't know."

"That is probably a good assessment. It is scary to go back there's always a fear you'll make the same mistakes."

"So, how does she get past that?"

"By facing it head on, and ..." she sighs. "You might not want to hear this."

"Just say it," I say.

"When I say facing it head on, I mean dating people again, people, not just one person and not you."

"Excuse me?" My jaw clenches up.

"I think there's a very good possibility that getting close to being ready to date did scare her. She's grabbing unto what she knows, what feels safe, and that's you. I think she's confusing feelings of gratitude and security for having romantic feelings for you. You need to do the right thing and push her back, at least for now." Each word is like an icy stab to my heart.

"I didn't ask for your judgment on this," I snap.

"I'm not trying to judge you, Conner. I admit I acted poorly when they took my name off the book, but any feelings I had over that and with us are resolved."

Her feelings for me were resolved when we were still a couple, and she was cheating, but I left that unsaid.

"I am looking at this objectively as a relationship expert," she continues. "If I were in your position and helping someone the way you have been helping Rissa, a romantic relationship between us would be a terrible idea, not to mention unethical."

"I'm not acting as her therapist..." I sigh at that lie. "Okay, maybe in some ways I am, but more than that, I have been her friend through this. When the book is done and she's ready... what is the problem?"

"The problem is that she needs to learn how to find a suitable partner for herself— by herself. She needs to know she can do that."

"This is one of those things I need to do myself, Conner." She's said that a few times now... but still.

"If you knew the type of men she was picking before, you'd see this is a positive choice for her."

"Of course it is! You're a great guy. I wish it could be you, Conner. I want you to be happy, but - you need to be realistic."

"You don't know her or me or the full situation," I mutter.

"I never do. I only know what's told to me and then I assess it. Maybe I am wrong... but..." She sighs softly. "I think, at the very least, you need to make sure she tries to date other people first. So she knows that she can trust her own choices."

"I got to go," I say in a clipped tone.

"Please don't be upset. I am coming from a good place."

"Yeah, I know. Good luck with your book, Serena."

"Thank you, and same to you," she says as we hang up.

Her words, however, hover around me like a black cloud.

"She's — Serena. She has to know everything about everyone. I don't need to take her advice." I find myself talking to the damn build-a-bears. They don't answer, but I swear the Conner bear judges me hard with those button eyes.

Is this why Rissa is so hesitant to date? She's scared and doesn't trust herself?

Am I a safety net?

Rissa is so insecure about how she used to be that sometimes Mel or Candice will make a joke about it, and I see the light dim from her eyes. The thought of going back 'out there' again is probably a big trigger for her.

We've never talked about how to handle dating because by the time she started to get there... we were kissing each other.

"Damn it," I mumble.

I have to do what's best for Rissa, even if it's not what's best for me.