The last twelve years swept through me like a tidal wave. I pointed my knees toward his, taking Garrett’s callused hand in mine, studying his fingers. I hoped he would hold someone like this one day—reading her hand like a map—as if letting her go would be like navigating life without a North Star. I inhaled fresh air, knowing I’d be just fine: I was already found.
“You know this is it for us, right? I can’t see you anymore,” I said, swallowing a throat of tears. He stared into my eyes, unmoving. “I will always remember how much I loved you, and think about you more times than I’ll probably want to admit to myself, but I can’t love you like this anymore.”
He shifted his jaw, pain all over his face. After a moment, he nodded softly.
“Does he make you happy?” he asked, the thought bringing his face together in pain.
“God, he does.” I exhaled, feeling it deep in my chest.
Garrett squeezed my hand.
“You deserve that. You deserve it all,” he whispered.
He looked me dead in the eyes, and I blinked back at him through tears.
“Maggie, you know…I think those Monday nights, that first year we met, those were the best nights of my entire life.”
I felt the tears fall down my quivering chin.
“They were pretty damn great,” I said. “Goddamnit, now I’m doomed to cry to Fall Out Boy tonight.” I laughed through tears.
“Well, if I have to cry to Fiona Apple, that’s only fair.”
I nudged his shoulder. “I thought you don’t cry.”
“Pretty sure I’m going to cry tonight,” he said, without any shame.
I smiled at him, sadly, but proudly.
“I hope she makes you happy. Like, really happy.”
Garrett paused for a moment, looking down at his hands in mine.
“I don’t think she does. And I know that’s not her fault,” he said softly.
I gripped his hands tighter, bringing his eyes to mine.
“Garrett, you only get one life. You deserve to have Monday nights like that forever with someone you love. Tuesday through Sunday, too.”
“I know,” he said, so quietly that I had to read his mouth to understand the words.
He bumped his shoulder to mine, trying to lighten the moment. He always was the guy who made the corners of my mouth dance—who made my body come alive like sunshine on a stormy day. Why should our death be any different? I grinned and edged my shoulder back to his. Garrett threw his arm around me and tugged me close to his side, his embrace springing tears from my eyes.
“You’re my favorite person, Maggie May. You know that?”
Here’s the thing. I knew I was his favorite person. I knew there was a good chance I always would be. And I knew he’d be one of mine. It was lovely and devastating. It was the right kind of closure.
I reached my arms over and I hugged him tight. I felt his arms go around my waist, pulling me closer, our aching hearts banging against each other.
“I love you,” I whispered into his ear, with my tears falling onto the curve of his neck.
Garrett held me even tighter. So tight that I could feel him choke back his emotions.
“I love you, too, Maggie May.”
I loved Garrett Scholl; I had since the day I first heard his voice. But you can only be fully in love with one person. It was time for me to be in love with the right one.
51
THIRTY-FIVE
ASHER GREETED ME AT HIS door with crossed arms and a furrowed brow. I swallowed hard and moved my body past him, sucking in tears, trying to get words out before emotions beat me to it. I paced in the kitchen, searching for the very words. He watched me, waiting. And then the words tumbled out of me, quickly.
“So, Cole Wyan—he discovered me a handful of years ago, and then, after we had just recorded one song, he made a move on me. I rebuffed him, he didn’t like the word no, and he tried to touch me again, and he touched me—and I broke his nose, and he threatened my career, and—”
Asher’s face silenced me. It was darker than I’d ever seen it. Outside of the stage and screen, Asher had never embodied anger like this. His eyes narrowed and darted around the room, as if maybe he could pick up something inside his immaculate living room and hurl it into the window, just to expel the fury boiling underneath his cotton shirt.
“I know I should have told you when we saw Cole last week, but honestly, when I saw him, it—it brought me back to a really horrible place—a place I thought I wouldn’t have to visit again.”
I felt tears around my throat, and the anger slipped from Asher’s face, replaced with his default: pure empathy. His eyes softened as he stepped forward, setting his palms on my shaking arms, but I backed away from him with my hands in the air. Hot tears continued to stream down.
“This morning…this morning when I found out that Cole had released my song out of nowhere, I ran somewhere else, I ran to another man. A guy who’s had this hold on my past…”
Asher put his hands on my wrists. His brow was furrowed, like he was trying to keep up.
“Mags, take a deep breath—”
“No. You need to hear this—”
“I don’t.”
He stood in front of me, and I froze, seeing that there was real hurt behind his eyes.
“I don’t want to hear how you ran to someone else, unless this is your way of trying to tell me that you don’t want to be with me—in which case, please spare me the details.”
He said it forcefully, looking directly into my eyes, and it took my breath away. It was a long moment before I was able to speak again—to navigate past the tears so I could tell him how badly I never wanted to hurt him again.
“Asher…nothing happened. I promise.”
His entire body exhaled, and he put his hand on his throat, tugging at the chain around his neck.
“Well shit, maybe you could have led with that.”
“I’m sorry. I—I ran somewhere else, but I want to be here. And stay here. I want to be with you.”
“Are you sure? Because you and I—somehow, we just picked up where we left off, and I didn’t venture to ask if you were ready for that. Maybe I was na?ve to think you were in this the way I was, and that’s not your fault.”
I shook my head effusively.
“You weren’t na?ve. I ran to the wrong person, but I needed to—I needed to close a door. You know me, I suck at lying to you, and I’m not lying when I say I’m all in on this. On us.”
He took a step forward, slowly.
“If you need to get something off your chest the next time your world is turning upside down, and you can’t do it here, with me, I want you to tell me. This needs to end if I’m not the arms you want to run into—if I’m not your person.”
“You’re my person,” I said, with tears running down my cheeks.
He hesitated, staring at all sides of my wet face.
“Well…can your person hold you already?”
I nodded through a sea of tears, and Asher took me into his arms, wrapping them tightly around me.
I wasn’t sure I deserved him in this moment. I felt immense guilt for letting Garrett hold me earlier, and I would try like hell to make it up to Asher.
After a long while, I dried my tears and we ordered some food, both of us exhaling our shitty night over Chinese takeout on the shag carpet as When Harry Met Sally played softly in the background. He paused the movie and turned his attention toward me.
“Look, I know I can’t make your past go away, but really: How can I help?”
Asher held up his phone. “Do you want to try and call Bex? Do you want me to? He called me pretty confused this morning.”
“He did?”
“I think he felt like you were toying with options from two different producers—but clearly that’s not the case. I know he would direct his anger toward the real monster if he knew the full story.”
I finished swallowing a crispy vegetable roll and paused to draw in air, exhaling deeply.
“Don’t call him. I don’t want Bex to know about any of this. Not yet.”
I grabbed my phone off the coffee table. I could feel my spine rebuilding itself, I could feel the heartbreak of a man taking hold of my career turn into white-hot fury. Sometimes, clinging to anger isn’t the poisonous venom people make it out to be.
“Who are you calling?” Asher asked.
“Raini.”
“Raini?”
I nodded, and as I went to dial her number, I froze. I slowly looked up at Asher, my face softening as I locked eyes with him.
“Thank you,” I said.