Maybe Once, Maybe Twice(100)

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.