Chapter 76 THE BOOK OFFER
Elias
“A publisher wants our story?” Alex stared at the email on Elias’s phone.
They were still in the hotel room. Morning after the wedding. Supposed to leave for Hawaii in three hours.
“Jennifer Park. Beacon Publishing,” Elias read. “Says she’s been following our journey since the article. Wants to discuss publishing it as a memoir.”
“Everything? The letters? Carter? All of it?”
“Apparently.”
Alex sat on the edge of the bed. His wedding suit from last night was draped over a chair. Tie on the floor. Evidence of celebration.
“How do you feel about this?” Alex asked.
“Confused. Flattered. Invaded. All of it.”
“Same.”
Elias set down the phone. “We don’t have to decide now. We’re supposed to be on our honeymoon.”
“Should we respond? At least acknowledge it?”
“After Hawaii. Let’s have one week—just us. No decisions. No pressure.”
“Okay. One week.”
They packed. Checked out. Flew to Hawaii. Seven days of beaches and sun and not thinking about anything serious.
But the question lingered. Unspoken but present.
“If we did this,” Alex said on day four, lying on the beach. “What would we include?”
“Everything? Or just the good parts?”
“I think everything. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
“Even the parts that make us look bad?”
“Especially those. People need to know relationships aren’t perfect.”
“You sound like you’ve already decided.”
“Maybe I have. Maybe I think our story could help someone.”
“And the invasion of privacy? The judgment?”
“Terrifies me. But maybe it’s worth it.”
They didn’t decide on the honeymoon. But they talked. Really talked. About what sharing their story would mean.
When they got home, Elias called Jennifer. Set up a meeting.
“Are we really doing this?” Alex asked the night before.
“We’re hearing her out. That’s all.”
Jennifer’s office was downtown, with glass walls. Modern. Professional.
She was younger than Elias expected. Maybe thirty-five. Sharp eyes. Warm smile.
“Thank you for meeting,” she said. “I know this is unusual. Reaching out right after your wedding.”
“It was unexpected,” Elias agreed.
“I’ll be direct. Your story resonated with me. The article about the harassment. The fight to be together. It stayed with me.”
“Why?” Alex asked.
“Because it’s real. Messy. Not a fairy tale. Real love is hard. Your story shows that.”
“What exactly are you proposing?” Elias asked.
“A memoir. Co-authored by both of you. Your voices. Your truth. We’d handle editing, publishing, and distribution. You’d maintain creative control.”
“What about the people involved? Carter’s family? Do we change names?”
“That’s your choice. Some authors change names. Others don’t. Depends on comfort level and legal concerns.”
They asked more questions. About money. Timeline. Process.
Jennifer answered honestly. No pressure. Just information.
“Think about it,” she said. “Take your time. But I believe in this story.”
In the car, Alex was quiet.
“What are you thinking?” Elias asked.
“That maybe she’s right. Maybe our story does matter.”
“But?”
“But I’m scared. Of being judged.”
“Some people will judge no matter what.”
“I know.”
They talked to Des and Sana. Katie. Everyone had opinions.
Des was supportive. “Your story could help people.”
Sana was cautious. “Make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons.”
Katie was direct. “Do you trust this publisher? Then do it.”
Two weeks later, they decided.
“Let’s do it,” Alex said. “Full honesty. Everything that happened.”
“You’re sure?”
“No. But I’m willing to try.”
They signed the contract in September. Started writing in October.
The process was harder than expected. Reliving everything. The pain. The fear.
“I forgot how bad some of this was,” Alex said.
“Me too.”
By December, they had a first draft. Rough. Raw. Honest.
Jennifer loved it. “This is exactly what we need.”
January brought edits. February brought cover design. March brought advance copies sent to reviewers.
“This is really happening,” Alex said, holding the physical book. Their names on the cover.
“How do you feel?”
“Terrified. Proud. Both.”
“Me too.”
April brought unexpected news. Someone leaked early chapters online.
Jennifer called. “We need to move up the release date. Turn this into momentum.”
The leak created buzz. Pre-orders exploded. By the time the book was officially released in May, they’d already sold 50,000 copies.
Reviews came in. Mixed but mostly positive.
A raw, honest look at modern love.
Problematic in places but ultimately about choosing love.
Day one, the book hit bestseller lists.
“This is insane,” Alex said.
“People connect with it. With us.”
Summer brought book tours. Six cities. Signings. Readings.
People lined up for hours. Some crying. Some thanking.
“Your book saved my relationship,” one person said.
“Thank you for being honest,” another said.
After the first signing, Alex felt different. “Maybe this was worth it.”
By July, they’d sold half a million copies.
“We’re bestselling authors,” Elias said.
“We’re public figures,” Alex corrected.
August brought one final event. The LGBTQ+ Literary Festival in New York.
“After this, we’re done with publicity,” Alex said.
“Agreed. One more event. Then we step back.”
They flew to New York the day before. Hotel near the venue. Nervous energy.
“Big crowd tomorrow,” Elias said.
“I know. Main stage. Hundreds of people.”
“We’ve done this before. We’ll be fine.”
But that night, neither slept well. Both are sensing something coming. Some shift. Some ending or beginning.
Morning arrived. They dressed. Prepared notes. Headed to the venue.
The festival was massive. Booths everywhere. Authors signing. Panels running. Energy electric.
Their reading was at 3 PM. They waited backstage. Hearing the crowd fill the theater.
“You ready?” the stage manager asked.
“As ready as we’ll be,” Alex said.
The moderator introduced them. Applause filled the space. They walked out. Sat at the table.
Microphones. Lights. Hundreds of faces watching.
The moderator smiled. “Thank you both for being here. Let’s open with audience questions.”
A young person stood. Nervous. Grateful.
“Your book made me feel seen. Thank you.”
More questions. More gratitude. The event is going well.
Then someone in the back stood up. Older. Face tight with anger.
Alex’s stomach dropped.
He knew what was coming.
Before the person even spoke.