One Temptation

This One's For You **NOT A CHAPTER**

NOT A CHAPTER

Okay, we need to talk.

I know, I know—I've been gone. The whole "plot building" excuse I gave? Cute, but not the real reason.

If I'm being honest with you, I was just wrecked. I got my heart broken—like, in the worst way possible—and now, I can't even look at this book without feeling everything all over again.

It wasn't even a real relationship, really. We were stuck in that weird middle ground—like, the talking stage mixed with a situationship.

But god, it felt real. And that's why I stopped updating.

The book was a vibe, sure, but he? He was a whole different level of energy that I wasn't ready to face again.

And now? As I sit here writing this, it's all flooding back—this heartbreak, this mess—and I feel like I have to share it with you. Because, honestly, if we're not all feeling this kind of pain, are we even alive?

So, here's the deal:

Just think of him as "A"

I stopped writing for an entire month because every time I sat down to work on this, all I could think about was him. About him. That's the plot twist, y'all.

The reason I started writing all those chapters after the camp is the same reason I got attached to him. It's crazy how it all lines up. We'd text all day, every day. Constantly. And while I was pouring myself into Mads' feelings, I was also pouring myself into him.

I mean, I was Mads. The overthinking mess who couldn't shut my brain off. And he? He was basically West. A guy who cared—like, way too much.

He cared when it was inconvenient. He cared when it hurt. And that's what fucked me up. That's why the book started feeling too real.

We'd stay up all night talking, just like Mads and West. He'd always text me just as I was about to fall asleep, saying, "Nooo, don't go to bed yet, talk to me." And I'd say, "But I'm tired," and he'd reply, "Okayyy, have a good night, I'll text you tomorrow."

And of course, I'd wake up to Good morninggggg texts, and we'd start all over again.

And it wasn't just surface-level stuff either. We went deep. Like, the kind of deep where we'd talk about everything. Life. The universe. Why I felt a certain way about something. What I was overthinking. What was bothering me.

And when I said it was nothing? He'd be like, "No, tell me. I'll break it down for you." Like, do you know what that does to someone who's always in their head? It's a game-changer. It's like husband material.

And that's when I started getting attached. Really attached.

Thats the problem. 

I was never meant to get attached. It was meant to be for the plot. But I got attached in the process.

Like, I'd think about him when we weren't talking. I'd replay our conversations in my head. And yeah, maybe it was a little freaky, but it was real. It felt real.

And then it all just... stopped.

Let me tell you, that shit tore me apart. And the worst part? We weren't even official. We never even dated. It was just this... energy.

And now, when I look back at everything in this book, it's like it's all him.

His name is everywhere. It's in the playlists we used to share. It's in the texts I wish I still had. It's in everything. I go online, and somehow, I'm seeing things that remind me of him—random playlists, songs I know he liked, his friends sending me friend requests and deleting them—like, it's all this weird stalker energy.