“He told you?” My throat ran dry as I wondered what else about that night I didn’t know or couldn’t remember. “Were you there? Did you see anything? Did you see the guy?”
Maggie gave me a sympathetic look before rising to head back into the bathroom. This time she emerged with a glass of water. “No, I wasn’t there. I didn’t see anything or him. But I know who it was.” She stopped in front of me, waiting for me to take the glass.
My arms couldn’t move though—nothing could. “How?”
“Because Matt found out who it was—some guy from another school.”
My heart felt like it could explode from how fast it was going. “Why would he tell you and not me?”
Maggie didn’t settle back onto the edge of the bed. She wandered to the window, staring out it with her arms crossed. “Because I guess he had some talk with you that next morning and kind of inferred that you never wanted to talk about anything related to that night ever again.”
She glanced back at me, expecting an argument. She wouldn’t get one from me. I hadn’t wanted to ever think, let alone talk, about that night. As hard as it had been tonight, it would have been impossible when I was sixteen.
“But he wasn’t going to let the guy just get away with it either,” she said.
“When he told me he was going to call the cops and tell them he walked in on this asshole undressing some girl he didn’t know, I might have suggested an idea.”
When she didn’t say anything else, I swiveled in my chair so I was angled toward her. “An idea?”
She shrugged, turning around to face me. “That I could be that girl,” she said as though it were obvious. “There was no way that guy was going to serve any time without the actual victim testifying, so, voila, I became the victim.”
My mouth fell open. “You lied in a court of law?”
Maggie’s eyes rolled. “It wasn’t a court of law. It was a couple of police officers who took my testimony, along with Matt’s.”
I gave her a look, waiting for the punch line. There had to be one, right? Matt was really Jacob that night. She pretended to be me. There was a perfectly logical solution to it all—she was messing with me.
When she stood there, straight-faced and silent, my hands drew to my mouth. “Oh my god. You’re serious.”
“Damn straight I’m serious,” she said, pointing at me. “And don’t look at me like that. What I did was put a would-be rapist behind bars for a few weeks so he could hopefully reflect on what he’d done and think twice before trying it again. I didn’t lose any sleep over it, that’s for damn sure.”
My world felt like it was crumbling around me—at the same time it felt as though it were all coming together. She wasn’t lying. I could see that in her eyes. I could feel it in my bones. This had happened, and I was finally finding out the truth almost a decade later.
“Why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t he tell me he found me instead of letting me believe it was Jacob?” I whispered, rising from the chair because I couldn’t keep still any longer.
“You didn’t want to talk about it. You wanted to put it behind you.” She motioned at me, sighing. “And he wanted whatever you wanted.”
Now I was the one pacing, trying to figure out what this all meant. What I had to do now. “Why tell me after keeping it a secret for so long?”
Maggie leaned into the windowsill, giving me a sad smile. “Because you deserve to know the truth. And he deserves the damn credit for once in his life.” She looked at me like she was waiting for me to acknowledge that. “He’s the one, Cora. The real goddamn deal. Don’t let him go because you feel guilty or think you should do the right thing or anything stupid like that. Be with the person you want to be with. Stop wasting time.”
Everything that had been out of focus for the past few days, for the past ten years, suddenly seemed clear. I had the answers I needed; now I just needed the courage to confront them.
“Thank you.” I stopped moving, kind of wanting to give her a hug but kind of knowing she might go Kill Bill on me if I tried. “For doing that for me. For being brave when I wasn’t.”
Maggie’s response was a simple shrug, like it was no big deal. “It wasn’t just for you. It was for women everywhere who might wind up drinking a little too much and dancing really, really poorly on tabletops.”
As her smile moved into place, so did mine.
“It was for him. Matt, who would do anything for you. In case you haven’t figured that out yet.” Her gaze dropped to my left hand, where the ring on it felt suddenly very heavy. Like it was a weight that would carry me down and eventually drown me if I didn’t find some way to be free of it. “And for the record, I believe you love Jacob. Hell, I even believe the selfish asshole loves you. But love is not enough. It isn’t.” Her head whipped so hard that as she shook it, half of her ponytail fell out again. “Not when it comes to the person you want to spend your life with. You need trust, and sacrifice, and friendship and loyalty and a shit-ton of other stuff.” She stopped listing things off on her fingers to stab her finger at me. “Love is not enough. That’s a lie. And you know it.”
Fresh tears were winding down my face, but I didn’t use the tissues to wipe them away. I was tired of hiding my emotions. Exhausted from disguising my feelings. “How do you know I believe that?”
“Because you know the difference.” Her expression called me out, knowing she had me.
“Yeah, I do,” I said as I slid the ring off of my finger. Whatever the wedding meant, wherever that left the three of us, I knew one thing. “Matt. He’s the difference.”
Maggie kind of fell into the desk chair, like she’d just drained the last of her energy. “You have no idea how many years I’ve waited for you to say that,” she hollered, stomping her feet on the floor. Her eyebrows bounced, a huge smile in place. “We poppin’ the champagne now?”
“Not yet,” I said, already backing toward the door. I didn’t bother with shoes or changing—I’d lost enough time as it was. “I have things to do first. I have two people I owe a couple of explanations to.”
“You might want some champagne in your system for that,” Maggie suggested as I pulled the door open.
“Got anything stronger?” I teased, pausing outside the door.
“Not on me.” She patted her pockets. “I downed the last mini bottle on the elevator ride up to get me through this talk.”
Before I left, I paused. “Thanks, Maggie. For everything you did before, and everything you’ve done just now.”
She made a face, like she’d done nothing. “Hey, you need a wing-woman?” she called as the door started to shut behind me.
“I’d love one, but I have to do this one on my own.”
Then I started down the hall, feeling like I was taking the first step in a new life.
My life. My fucking life.