My fake fiancee. (BWWM)

||Twenty Five||

        

            I lay on my side, trying to sleep, but no sleep was coming. Not with everything I had floating in my mind. All I could do is stare at the closed glass door that led to a patio, the darkness that filled the night very evident from the skies.
I remember how excited yet tense I was when I got the text from Aurora that she had a copy of the review from New York Today, one of the biggest magazine companies in the country.
She had sent in my book to one of the people there who she knew, said it would be good press for my book and with the review from them, my book will have a hundred percent or more sales in a couple on months.
I told her to send over the review, no matter what it says.

Any press, is good press, right?
Wrong.

“SILENT LOVE is a cliché kind of novel. And it is very clear that the writer of the book is an amateur writer. The protagonist is a deaf girl who also happens to be poor. She falls in love with a rich guy who is every woman's dream but he only has eyes for her. Come on, we see this in most books and this is one of the reasons you shouldn’t read this book. The antagonist of the story is a bratty rich girl who thinks she has the world at her feet and the main guy by her side, typical. This is the second reason you shouldn’t read this book.  And the third and most important reason is that the author of this book is not by any means deaf, she is very much healthy and able to hear even the tiniest of noises, sources tell us. So it is not in her place to write about a deaf person, because she does not know their story, she may know the fact that they can’t hear and they struggle with communicating with people who don’t know sign language but that’s it. It’s not in her place to talk about the love life of a deaf girl. This book is based on fantasy and does not at one point put in an aspect of reality. You won’t live your love life in between the pages of a book forever, but with this book as it may be catchy and make you forget your duties and responsibilities till the last page, it is all based on fantasy and something that can only happen in your imagination and not real life. But all in all, this book is rather interesting in a way, for those who love the cliché kind of sappy romance stories.”

Those words were encrypted in my brain.

I wish I listened to dad and went to college to do nursing…

This is a failure

I'm never going to become a real writer.

I’m so disappointed in myself.
I should start …

Urgh… no more negative thoughts Em. You’re better than this.

I sniffled, that’s when I realized I was crying. I wiped my tears away and closed my eyes tightly shut, hoping that would help mute the voices in my head. But that was almost impossible. A cry slipped out of my mouth and I quickly put my hand over my mouth, I didn’t want to wake up Raffael, I was in his bed after all and he was taking the couch. Suddenly, warmth enveloped me in its warm embrace.

Raffael.

“Bunny? What’s going on?” he asked, leaving a trail of small kisses on my shoulder every once in a while. “It’s nothing, go back to sleep,” I croaked, the tears falling harder. “It can’t be nothing and you’re crying,” he said, as a matter of fact, his voice laced with concern.
“it’s just…. I don’t... It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” I wanted to tell him, I really did.
I tried to but the words would not fall from my lips. I was afraid he would also be disappointed as I was in myself. “Talk to me, bunny. Emilianna, I’m here for you and I want to know what is making you hurt like this,” he made me turn and face him, but I couldn’t look at him in the eye, so I settled on looking at his shoulder, the tears still falling silently.

“Mmmh… whats going on, love?” he asked once again and kissed me on the forehead. I wiped my right cheek, “I just feel alone, Raffa. And it hurts.”
He cradled me in his big, strong, skillful arms, kissing my forehead, “You have me, bunny. You are not alone. I’m here.”
I snuggled into him deeper, wanting to feel more of him to confirm that he was really here with me, “you don’t think I’m a failure?” I sniffled, his scent and his touch calming me down.
He took my chin in his hand and had me face him, “I would never think that. You’re a great woman and one of the best writers I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.” I shake my head no, fresh tears falling from my eyes, “you don’t have to lie to me, Raffa. I'm a failure, I’ll never be a real writer.”
“Why do you say that? I’ve read your book it’s going to be a hit,” he said.
“it’s just….. they said…..” I couldn’t form a full sentence.
“Shh love, you don’t have to say it now,” he said, kissing my head one more time, his hand in my hair, massaging my scalp. My eyes were droopy and I finally gave in to the sleep that came almost immediately. “Goodnight, Raff.”

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