Almost Like Love by Abigail Strom Read Free Book Online Page A

Chris had met a year earlier at Jessica’s engagement party. He was a biology professor and, like her, not much of a party person. They’d bonded in a quiet corner to which they’d both retreated to get away from the crowd. Their friendship had begun that night, and a few months later they’d started dating.
    The transition had been smooth and effortless. They got along as a couple as well as they did as friends—they rarely argued, and there was no drama or angst between them. When Chris had proposed two months ago, it had seemed like the natural culmination of their relationship. Add in the fact that Kate was twenty-nine—right on the cusp between not-a-kid-anymore and holy-biological-clock, Batman—and their engagement had felt almost inevitable.
    A part of her had wondered if she ought to be more excited about the whole thing, but she’d long ago come to the conclusion that there would always be a gap between the romances she read and wrote about and the ones she experienced in real life. And Chris was a kind, intelligent, gentle man, and she loved and trusted him.
    At least, she had until he’d fallen in love with someone else.
    How could she have been so blindsided by someone she thought she knew? Had there been signs all along—signs she’d missed? Their relationship might not have lit the world on fire, but up until yesterday she’d thought it was solid. She’d thought they wanted the same things and were looking forward to building a life together.
    But Chris, it turned out, had been looking for something else. Some one else. Someone who made him feel whatever it was Anastasia made him feel.
    Someone who wasn’t her.
    She picked up his toothbrush and squeezed it in her hand.
    They’d spent more nights at his place than at hers, but he did have some clothes in the closet and some toiletries here in the bathroom. The clothes she’d give back to him, but a spare toothbrush she could—and did—throw out.
    Once she’d dropped it in the wastebasket, she scoured the bathroom for other remnants of him. She found an old bottle of aftershave, a razor, a stick of deodorant, and an empty prescription bottle. They followed the toothbrush into the trash.
    She stared down at the pitiful detritus of her relationship. When she felt a tickle in her nose and the sting of tears behind her eyes, she grabbed the basket, marched out of the apartment, and emptied it into the garbage chute.
    Back inside, she told herself there was no need to uninvite Ian to Jessica’s wedding just yet. What if she decided she did need a crutch to face her ex? If she’d already cancelled on Ian, she’d be too embarrassed to reinvite him.
    Maybe she should give it a few days and see how she felt.
    After her shower, she made some toast and poured another cup of coffee. She had only a few hours before she was due at Ian’s, so she decided to stay home and look through her project folder—the file of story ideas she hoped to get to someday.
    She’d published short stories and graphic novels before she’d gotten her first job as a television writer. She’d worked on a few different shows in the years since then, but Life with Max had been her baby. She’d created it, and she'd written and directed most of the episodes herself with the help of a wonderful production team.
    As much as she’d enjoyed doing the show, it had been pretty demanding. She’d sometimes wished she had a little more free time to explore other projects.
    Well, now she did. Not by choice, of course, but still.
    She should have seen the writing on the wall. Her ratings had been slipping this season, especially after the network had changed her time slot. But even though she should know better by now, she’d stupidly assumed that the Emmy they’d won the previous year and the glowing reviews the show always received would carry more weight with the network execs.
    Just how naive was she, anyway? She hadn’t seen the cancellation coming any more than she’d