Marrying a Writer

Table of Contents About The Book Playlist and Pinterest Board Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Epilogue Acknowledgments About The Author Let's Connect! Sneak Peeks Sneak Peek of Loving a Writer Other Work by Shani Haim Copyright © 2023 by Shani Haim All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of a brief quotation in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, or incidents are products of the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, places or events is purely coincidental or fictionalized. Editing by Erica Russikoff of Erica Edits Photography: Shani Haim Formatting: Sarah of Book Obsessed Formatting www.authorshanihaim.com About the Book I always thought my wedding day would be the happiest day of my life. I was wrong. Because it wasn’t my choice. I was forced into an arranged marriage. Roman Irving Gallagher was my childhood best friend, and I loved him with my whole heart. Then one day, without the slightest explanation, he was my tormentor. My bully. Now he’s my husband. But I’m starting to see cracks in his cold façade. The boy I once knew is still in there somewhere, trapped behind the walls Roman has built around his heart. And I’m going to break down those walls, brick by brick. Because even though my wedding wasn’t what I wanted, there’s no reason our marriage can’t be exactly what we both need. After all, we’re in this together. For better or worse… Playlist and Pinterest Board Just a few extras to give you the full Roman and Justine experience. Their Pinterest Board Their Playlist on Spotify From Eden – Hozier New York City – Lenny Kravitz Adrienne – The Calling The Princess Bride - Storybook Love – Vitamin String Quartet Stuck with U – Ariana Grande, Justin Bieber Powerful – Major Lazer, Ellie Goulding, Tarrus Riley DNA x House of Cards (Violin Remix) – OMJamie Counting Stars – One Republic She’s a Beast – Lenny Kravitz Cutthroat – Imagine Dragons Love Me or Leave Me – Little Mix Animals – Marron 5 22 – Taylor Swift Closer – Kings of Leon Nights in White Satin – The Moody Blues You & I – One Direction 11:11 – Ben Barnes Storybook Love – Mark Knopfler, Willy DeVille PROLOGUE Roman THIRTEEN YEARS AGO “WHERE IS she?” “Who?” My sister, Kennedy, tilted her head, gazing at me as though she had no idea what I was talking about. Or maybe she gave me the look of what a sweet idiot my baby brother is, even when we had one year separating us and I was practically an adult, scratching seventeen. Because I was an idiot. I should’ve kept watch on where my friend who I cared for and needed to look after during our summer vacation would be. If I hadn’t been busy with other stuff. The cool breeze that signaled the end of summer blew strands of my dark brown hair into my face. I swiped them away. They upset me almost as much as the taunting gleam in Kennedy’s eyes. “Don’t start.” I glowered at her. I didn’t bother keeping my voice down, seeing our parents and Justine’s had taken off on an afternoon stroll along Main Beach in East Hampton not too long ago. When I saw them wandering from the kitchen window, it’d been just the four of them. No Justine. She didn’t answer when I called from the bottom of the stairs, so where the fuck was she? Kennedy pushed her sunglasses up her head, sitting up straighter on the lounger. “Roomie, I wouldn’t ask a stupid question, but since you asked me one first… I mean, it’s obvious she’d be in her bedroom after what happened.” I ignored the annoying nickname, more concerned about Justine. My Justine. “What the fuck happened?” The mounting concern made me oblivious to my sister’s sigh of exasperation. “Oh, right, I forgot. You’ve been yoga-ing for the past two hours. Guess that’s why you didn’t hear her shouting match with Stuart.” Stuart, Justine’s dad, has never let his only child feel good about herself a single day in her life. The number of times I’d had to pick up my best friend, my oldest friend, from the floor due to his cruel comments were so many I couldn’t count them. But I loved her so much, I wouldn’t have minded carrying her on my back my entire life. That was how bonds worked. Because although I hadn’t remembered being eighteen months old and waving at the newborn who’d wrapped me around her little finger, I did remember the after. The fun times of the two of us playing, or talking, or laughing until we rolled on the floor, or the fucking heartbreaking ones of Justine crying in silence and me finding her where she was. I took my role in this friendship very seriously, especially during our yearly summer vacations. That day, however, I’d messed up. Rage boiled my blood from imagining her suffering alone in her room. The familiar anger that simmered beneath my skin sprinted me into motion. I spun on my heel, not sparing Kennedy another word, and ran into the house, past the French doors, darting up the stairs. The hardwood floors creaked beneath my feet as I rushed past the hall of her parents’ home in a flash. Less than two minutes later, I stood outside her bedroom door. I glanced down at myself, sweaty from practice, wearing nothing but sweats. We spent long days and nights of