Joe Goldberg is beginning to wonder if there's any more decent people in the world. With both Candace and Beck out of the picture, he's feeling lonely and starting to give up on love. That is, until Leila comes sobbing into Mooney's. Fragile and vul...
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B E C K , these past two years have been so...so...what's the word for it?
Long.
Is it too cliche to say life isn't the same without you? Because you left a hole in my chest that I wasn't expecting.
It's true that what we had was special but I'm not dumb. Things weren't perfect. Beck, you weren't perfect.
I know that now.
We were never meant to be forever. In the end, you couldn't love me back and I've accepted that. I've rested well knowing that, at the very least, my hard work wasn't for nothing. The last thing we ever did together was finish your book. And your story is a masterpiece. You've gotten what you've always wanted, Beck. Immortality.
You have your happy ending.
Now I just have to work on mine.
I have to find my own "happily-ever-after". The problem is I've buried myself in work at the bookstore. I haven't had a minute to myself, let alone a second to try to find someone. Mooney's isn't exactly crawling with young, hot singles.
Take that guy over in the YA section. The one with the thick, unkempt, salt-and-peppered beard and sweat stains under his arms. Beck, Mooney's is full of sweat-stained guys, and I'm not about to waste my time praying for another you.
It's just not going to happen. "The one" isn't going to walk through the door, heart open and ready for love. I've been through that exact scenario before. Twice, actually. My heart can't take any more of this.
The lies.
The cheating.
All my hard work for rejection again and again.
I want something real. Something stable. I tell myself to just be open, that love can happen anywhere at any time. But Beck, I'm tired. I've mourned you and I've mourned Candace. I need my forever love.
And it's not going to be waiting for me here-
Hold on, who are you?
You-
You're not from around here. Bundled up in so many layers I can barely make out the shape of your body; New Yorkers are used to the cold, but you- you're still adapting. This frigid air isn't something your skin is use to. So you protect yourself.
Alright, I'll bite: What else are you protecting yourself from? I can see you hugging the walls, eyes scattered everywhere and nowhere all at once. You're not looking for anything in particular, but you're not browsing either. You're aimless.
Does being in here bring you comfort? Are you hiding from someone? Out there?
Now that I'm a little closer, I can see your eyes. Wow, I wasn't expecting that. They're deep.
