Page 137 of Fangirl

In the first book, when Anlon found Celandine bleeding in the ruins of Vaelmoor, he placed a single glowing flower beside her heart. A rare bloom called the Liraithan blossom.

A fragile, powerful thing said to only grow in grief-soaked soil. I read that scene a dozen times. A hundred.

And during one Q&A, Melinda admitted she based the Liraithan on the Blue Himalayan poppy. Said she saw it once in a botanical garden in Edinburgh and never forgot it.

Neither did I.

I bring the bouquet inside like it’s made of glass, setting it gently on the kitchen table.

The wrapping is elegant but minimal. No ribbon. No logo.

Just a single ivory envelope tucked between the stems.

No name. No branding. But I already know.

I open it.

And the second I read the words, my knees nearly give out.

Love like ours doesn’t die on the battlefield. It retreats, heals, and returns stronger.

My hand flies to my mouth.

It’s not just the flowers. Not just the quote.

It’s him. It’s Jake.

And I start crying, not the gasping, heaving kind. The quiet sort. The kind that slips out like relief.

Because maybe we’re broken… but not beyond repair.

Maybe this is his way of saying he’s coming back.

Not as Eli. Not as Jake Hollander.

But as himself… to fight forus.

I press the note to my heart. Maybe thirty isn’t the end of something. Maybe it’s the beginning.

CHAPTER 26

JAKE

Imiss Amy. I really fucking do.

But now that the sharp edge of the hurt has dulled, I can finally see her point—and maybe even the grace in the way she walked away. She didn’t do it to end us. She did it to save us.

Not that I’d ever get tired of her.Never.

But she would’ve, eventually. Not of me but of the man I kept pretending to be. Because if I don’t know who I am, how the hell could she love me fully? How could she trust that what I’m offering is real?

And that’s what it takes to survive in this world—ours, especially.

Full trust. Unshakable belief. The kind of love that doesn’t crumble under flashing cameras or slow-creeping doubts.

I don’t know a single couple in my Hollywood circle who’s made it work long-term. The only ones who’ve survived the storm are both actors living in the same chaos, understanding the same rules.

But Amy and I? We’re not them.