I wouldn't say I was ever an outcast in my hometown but I never really felt I belonged. I didn't attend the social events or hung with the "in" crowd. I know some of the adults and most of the kids thought I was strange walking around with my notebook and jotting down random thoughts. Little did anyone know I had a passion for writing and one day I knew somewhere deep down that all those little thoughts and notes would make me a successful author one day.

Of course once the books started getting published and several of the characters resembled members of our small town, the ones who scratched their heads at the strange girl with her nose in a book understood. Finally. Unfortunately they didn't like it as much as I hoped. Who am I kidding? Of course they wouldn't like it. No one likes to see themselves as what they really are. Going through life blind is safe, boring, but safe. I didn't much care what they all thought. I was living thousands of miles away. Married, happy, and the center of a very large universe in New York City; I never thought I would ever have to face any of them again.

Boy was I wrong. My happy life came to a crashing halt two years ago. I found a lump. A tiny lump. I was only twenty-seven years old. I was sure it was a simple cyst or a blocked duct. I was wrong, dead wrong. The doctors were wrong too. They said we caught it early enough, it would be a few simple procedures and I would be home free. It didn't work out that way. It took two years of chemo, radiation, operations, and experimental drugs to finally rid me of cancer. My hair was growing back, my body was finally losing that bloated steroid look, and my short term memory was returning. I finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. I was home free! I was wrong. Again.

After my six month check up I knew things were going to get better. My latest book made the Best Seller's list before it was even released. I was so proud of that book. I had enough guts to finally write about the cancer and what I saw as a survivor's story. I was booked for lectures and book signings. I got an advance on my next three novels. I even got to travel to England as an invited guest speaker at Oxford. Not bad for a little writer from Louisiana who never finished college. I was on cloud nine when I returned from across the pond. I couldn't wait to dive into a new story. Getting lost in a new world was like a drug for me. No more real life crap either. I was going to try something I had always wanted to write. A supernatural series with a strong heroine and more lovers than she knew what do to with, it was going to be grand. She would be empowering to women and men would fantasize about her.

Then I walked in on my beautiful, amazing husband having sex with his trainer and assistant. He didn't even try to look guilty. He said he needed it, he was sick of waiting for me to get better and quit writing. Quit writing? I never said I would quit writing? The only way I would ever quit writing was if I was dead. But I beat death. I won and now here was the man who promised to love me forever with a man between his legs and his face between that wretched Selah's thighs. I always knew she wanted him, I just hadn't thought Quinn would ever actually give her a second glance. I was wrong. Again.

I left that night. I crashed at my friend's Upper Eastside digs and cried on her couch for hours. Ronnie was my best friend in New York. There was no one like her in the world. We thought so much alike that we often joked we could read each others' minds. But this night we sat in silence. Well she sat in silence while I sobbed quietly into a pillow. I fell asleep with her playing with my hair. I woke up the next morning with a steaming cup of coffee under my nose and Ronnie had that I mean business look on her face. I sighed and waited for her to begin.

"Okay Sookie. This is the deal. You are done with Quinn. You don't need him." She said firmly.

I nodded.

"Think of it this way. You don't have kids, so that is one less thing to worry about. You have plenty of your own money and because of that prenup I drew up, you get half of his money too." Ronnie couldn't help but pat herself on the back. I was too tired to do it for her.

"So now what?" I asked.

"The smartest thing you ever did was snap those pics of Quinn doing that nasty deed. Camera phones rock." Ronnie winked at me and I couldn't help but laugh.

"I already emailed them on over to Quinn's agent and lawyer. I suspect we should be getting a call anytime now." As if on cue the phone rang.

Ronnie flipped her phone and went into bull dog lawyer mode. Within an hour I was well on my way to being single and absurdly independently wealthy. Quinn's latest contract had him guaranteed at fifty-six million for the next three years with the Giants; I just acquired half of that and half of his current holdings. I gave him the house and told him to burn my stuff. I never wanted to be reminded of him or our time together. I had my assistant, Tara, empty out my office first. I was distraught but not completely broken. I should have known better to trust someone who never called me by my Christian name. "Babe." Why did I ever finding that endearing? Now it made me gag.

"So now what are we going to do about a new place for you? We should keep you close." Ronnie said.

We were enjoying strawberry milkshakes after an early dinner of Mexican cuisine. Ronnie couldn't decide if it was lunch or dinner so she said it was Supper. I agreed to disagree and thought we should call it Linner. She asked me how old I was and then took my milkshake away saying the sugar was overpowering my intelligence.

I had already started to make a plan about where to live and I knew New York City was not the place for me. I loved the city. It was vibrant and exciting but staying would mean constantly being in the tabloids or on TMZ as the woman scorned. I couldn't do it. I wouldn't do it. I squirmed in my seat and thought about the best way to break it to my friend. We never did well separated for long but I knew I had to what I was about to do. For my sanity. For my life.

"Actually Ron, I was thinking of leaving the city altogether. I was thinking upstate somewhere. Maybe a small farm where I can't see my neighbors." I said quietly. I braced myself for her reaction.

"For fuck's sake Sookie, why not just go on back to Bon Temps!" Ronnie snapped.

"Well I thought about that too. I have enough resources to renovate Gran's old place and buy a place up here. I was thinking of splitting my time." I looked wide-eyed at my friend. I hoped she wasn't going to explode. She looked like she might.

"Are you serious?" she hissed.

"Oh Ronkins! You know I love you, but I can't stay here. You can visit whenever you want. We can lay out together and play pool at Merlotte's. And then in the summer we go horseback riding on some amazing farm just hours from here." I had a wistful look on my face and she couldn't help but laugh at me.

"You really are going to do this aren't you?" she sighed.

"Yes, I need to start over. I need to focus on me being alive and not half dead with tubes or cheating husbands beating me down everywhere I go."

"Okay, I will contact my realtor. And we can start your search for the perfect little farm." Ronnie rolled her eyes.

"Thanks Ronkins!" I jumped up and hugged her neck. "So while you work on that I am going to book a flight to Shreveport."

"What already?"

"Yes, I already contacted Compton Contracting and Bill is at Gran's seeing what we need to do to get it back in shape. Then we are going to build a little guest cottage so when you bring some new hot boy toy I don't have to listen to you from under the pillow I have stuffed over my head." I winked at Ronnie and she smacked me with a rather hard throw pillow.

"Ouch!"

"You deserved it, suck it up." She said flatly.

"I did, didn't I?" I giggled and hit her back with another pillow.

"Okay, damn enough. What are we thirteen or some shit?" She yelled.

I laughed so hard I snorted. I felt free. No more red carpets, ESPN cameras in my house, and for the love of God no more football jerseys on my living room walls.

Ronnie was talking to me but I was so focused on not caring about the end of my marriage I had not heard her.

"What?""

"I said look that is the guy you said you knew from back home." She had to rewind the DVR so I could see.

My heart leaped into my throat, my cheeks grew hot and my palms got sweaty. There he was in all his glory. Six-foot four with shoulders of a god and long silky blonde hair, he was walking in long strides across Central Park as he waved to screaming fans. Eric Northman had left Louisiana before I did and ended up in Ireland. He founded an amazing rock band with musicians from all over the world. They were classified rock but their last album had sky rocketed up the charts because they figured out a way to combine blues, southern rock, metal, and punk all on the same album and it made sense. It made so much sense they finally got their own world tour.

They were ending their tour right here in New York with a four-night stop. They had a different venue for each night, the last being the lawn in Central Park. I had thought about pulling some strings and showing up backstage but I chickened out. I doubted Eric would even recognize me. I didn't look I used too. My hair was growing back but it was barely to my shoulders and in some crazy residual chemo brain I thought dying it chocolate brown was a good idea. I was so thin at this point my trademark curves were MIA and despite my clean bill of health my eyes were not their usual vibrant sparkly blue. They were dull and I had to admit despite all my prayers my eyelashes would never be as long as they had once been.

For a split second I let Quinn off the hook. Of course he cheated; I was a shadow of what I once was. Then I remembered that Ronnie would kick my ass for having a pity party after she fed me and agreed to my move. I squared my shoulders and sighed. Maybe I should have had Tara get those tickets. It was too late now, no point in second guessing myself.

"Sookie seriously snap out of it." Ronnie sounded annoyed. Then she shoved something in my hand.

"What's this?" I stared blinking at a red envelope.

"It's my invite for me and a guest to a private show tonight. Get up and get ready. We are going to have some fun tonight." She said with a devilish grin.

"Private show? Where? Who?"

I opened the red envelope and almost lost my dinner. It said one word. Northman.

"Oh no. Ronnie I am not up for this!" I yelled across the flat.

"I really don't care. Now get your ass up and take a shower. You stink!" She yelled back.

I mumbled some words under my breath that would have caused Gran to roll over in her grave and make my brother Jason proud. She was always doing this. Again with the guessing what I wanted or needed before I knew it, I couldn't be too mad I did the same to her on more than one occasion.

I shuffled to my guest room and turned on the shower. I formed a plan to keep a low profile. This was a small venue; it would be dark and cramped. If I stayed in the shadows or stayed at the bar he wouldn't ever spot me. I would enjoy seeing him in his element.

Eric and I were very good friends in high school. Eric was two years ahead of me but we shared an elective art class and ended up as project partners. I was a freshman and he was a junior. At first he was not happy with the arrangement but eventually he got over his ego and we bonded. I saw him through his break up with his only high school girlfriend. Then his parents died in an airliner crash. They were headed back to their home country of Sweden for a family reunion. Eric, an only child, stayed behind because we had a deadline and he was not one to blow off commitments. He had felt so guilty and in his own words he was utterly alone in the world. All his local family was on that plane. Aunts, uncles, cousins, and of course his parents gone in the flash of an eye. He ended staying with us in my Gran's house for three months before his inheritance came through. He left Bon Temps three days after graduation. I was inconsolable for weeks. I couldn't wait to leave too.

I was so busy making good grades and preparing for college I never really paid much attention to the boys in school. I guess it wasn't until Eric was gone that I realized how much he meant to me. I was completely and madly in love with a boy who had so badly damaged he left the country. I think seeing me made him think of his family and it was too painful. My guilt was all consuming and when it was time for me to head off to college I ran and never looked back. Eric had penetrated every part of my life, even my childhood home; I couldn't stand seeing him everywhere. I knew exactly why he left. It was why I had to leave too.

The day Eric left we shared one kiss. I think he meant it as a friendly "see ya later" best friend kind of kiss but it became so much more. As soon as he bent down my heart thumped in my chest and his long fingers wrapped around my neck as he gently brushed his lips on mine. I think I remember gasping and I know my knees buckled because he put his hand on the small of my back to steady me. That resulted in our bodies touching and some how my hands ended up around his neck. Eric made some sort of incoherent noise and when I tried to respond he darted his tongue into my mouth. He kept alternating between soft and firm pressure with his tongue and I will never forget how it made me stop thinking for once. It was all about feeling and in that moment he made me feel more than I ever thought possible. I distinctly remember pressing my body against him and then the tears began to fall. He pushed me away as if my tears were burning his skin. Avoiding looking me directly in the eye, he kissed the inside of my wrist and walked away. We had not seen each other since that day. That was ten, no twelve years ago.

We wrote a few letters, talked on the phone occasionally, and when I finally caught up with the rest of world we would email sporadically. It was never the same though. The easiness we shared was gone. My heart would feel like it was breaking and I often would ramble on not making much sense. Then as time went on it was like we communicated through lists.

I wrote one email I will never forget it was one of the last I ever sent him:

Hi E,

Went Shopping for books.

Took guitar lessons.

Finished my thesis.

Got Published.

Dropped Out.

Bye, S

His response:

Cool

E

Shortly after Quinn started to pursue me. I think I was lonely and I had definitely given up on finding anything as intense as that one kiss, so when he asked me to marry him I said yes. I left a message for Eric that time on his cell and I never heard back. No I can't say that. When Gran died I got a card from her favorite cat rescue telling me an Eric Northman was nice enough to make a large donation in her name. I cried for hours with that fucking card pressed to me chest. And if I am being truly honest the tears were for the loss of my friend as much as for Gran's passing.

My last contact with Eric was two weeks after my diagnosis went public. By then I was a nationally known author whose first book was made into an HBO mini-series and I was married to a very popular football star. I was on the front pages of every tabloid and even E! asked people on a red carpet if they had heard the news. The report said I was on my deathbed with only days to live. Yeah I definitely could have died but I wasn't on my deathbed. I was mortified by the attention, but Quinn seemed to think it was great for both of our careers.

There was a voice mail from an unknown number on my cell four days into my first round of chemo and I did not have the energy to even listen. So Ronnie who was there for me every second of every day did. I watched her eyes well up with tears and hastily turn away from me trying to hide the emotion on her face. She replayed the message for me after I panicked and through my chemo haze I heard Eric's voice filled with pain and desperation asking me not to die. He demanded I fight with everything I had. He said he would come to see as soon as he could. I never called him back and he never came to see me. Let's remember before everyone starts calling us idiots. I really was dying and I really did have to fight for my life. And I was married. I was loyal and faithful to Quinn and even contacting Eric when I was supposed to concentrate on getting healthy felt like energy I could not spare. He probably thought since I never called back I did not want to see him. What really chapped my ass now were the recent events proved my decision to not spare that energy had been wasted on Quinn. I so made the wrong choice.

So here I was standing in front of a full-length mirror with Ronnie's stylist fluttering around me. I guess Ronnie felt my choice of khakis and a black tank top was a bad choice so she called in the big guns. One phone call had my assistant Tara and we had a full out fashion army commandeering Ronnie's flat. We had a rolling rack full of different outfits. My hair had some how ended up shades lighter with highlights and extensions. I balked at the spray on tan and opted for a light bronzer to fake a healthy glow. I actually looked almost healthy for the first time in over two years. I admitted to the room I was happy to have the Fashion Squad on my team for once.

Next came picking out an outfit. Ronnie and Tara insisted on a dress. There were several to choose from and that was where we're at now. We only had forty-five minutes to finish transforming me into a living breathing human and I was starting to sweat. Ronnie pursed her lips and slowly shook her head at every dress. Finally I tried on the simple black spaghetti strap cocktail dress that I thought for sure was never going to fit me. It was tiny and I guess I forget I was tiny. In my mind I was still a healthy size eight, in reality I was a fragile looking size two.

The dress fit perfectly and it actually made me look like I still had some curves. The dress had a low v-neck that showed a little bit of my breast reconstruction but it wasn't slutty. The wide band of material just below my waist made my waist look tiny but it helped the skirt flare out giving the illusion of some hips. I missed my curves. It came just to my knees but when I twirled it swirled up.

"Marilyn Monroe, eat your heart out!" Ronnie laughed. "Okay I know it's black but damn you look hot!"

"Seriously Ronnie this looks nothing like that dress and let's face it my legs look nothing like Ms. Monroe's." I rolled my eyes at my friend's smirk.

Tara came in the room and reciprocated my eye roll with her own.

"Sookie you look fantastic for someone who looked like a Goth reject just four hours ago." Tara said flatly. I stuck my tongue out at her.

"Okay let's go!" I clapped my hands and picked up my bulky jacket. It was cool night and I had fewer clothes on than I was used too. Warmth was a comfort I relished.

"Oh you are so not wearing that jacket!" Tara scolded. She handed me an ankle length sweater coat that looked delicate but was actually extremely warm. It fit like a glove and it was a deep red color that made me feel like I would stand out too much. But I didn't have a choice. Ronnie and Tara weren't giving me one.