“Ohhh, there’s Tori Warner. Oh my God, I love her music! And that husband of hers? Serious eye candy.”
I shook my head. “Try to control yourself. I don’t need you to embarrass us both by fan-girling all night.”
“Oh, like you’re not!”
“Of course, I am. But I keep that shit locked in the vault.”
“Like everything else.”
Amanda accused me of being cold sometimes. Too stand-offish. But I was raised by a strong woman who was never around because she was working three jobs to keep a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. She didn’t need a man. Or anyone else. And she’d raised me to keep my shield up, even it meant I rubbed people the wrong way sometimes. My friends and family knew I’d lay down my life for them, and that was good enough for me.
Mav finally made his way to us, and gave Amanda a quick hug before reaching for me. I wasn’t too proud to admit I melted into his arms. That shield? It was starting to come down with Mav, and that scared the hell out of me because the last time I’d let that happen, I had to re-build it one painstaking inch at a time so no man could ever hurt me the way he had again.
“Hey,” he said softly, tucking a lock of hair gently behind my ear. “I missed you.”
I didn’t know what was happening between us. It felt like it was growing minute by minute and I was afraid of getting absorbed by it. “Another amazing show,” I whispered, biting back the urge to tell him I’d missed him too.
“Thanks.” He smiled at Amanda before tugging me against his side. “Where’s my brother?”
“He should be here soon,” Amanda said, glancing at the door. “So, I think I’ll go to the ladies’ room and freshen up, if you two will excuse me.”
“I hope I didn’t scare her off,” Mav said, watching her leave. “Or does she just not like me?”
“What? No. Why would you think that?”
“Because I hurt you.” He sighed. “And she’s your best friend. That means she’s supposed to hate me.”
“She doesn’t hate you, Mav.” Like me, Amanda had learned in AA that people weren’t infallible, and because we didn’t want anyone to judge us for our past mistakes, we tried to extend the same courtesy to others.
That’s when it hit me. I was still holding Mav’s past mistakes against him!
“Hey, you okay?” he asked, touching my cheek. “You look a little pale.”
“Can we step outside for a minute?” I whispered, feeling the sudden urge to spill my guts without an audience.
“Yeah, of course.” He turned around, looking for a rear exit. “Come on, this way.”
He grabbed my hand, and led me quickly through the crowd, not giving anyone a chance to slow him down.
Once we were outside, he asked, “You cold? I have a jacket in—”
“No, I’m fine.” I had to get this out, before I lost my nerve. “You’re not at this step yet, but in AA we have to make amends.” My voice was shaky as I recalled that difficult and painful phase of my recovery. “You know, to seek out the people we’ve hurt and ask their forgiveness for the mistakes we’ve made.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard about that. It’s a long list for me, starting with you.”
I held my hand against his heart. It was racing, like mine was. “I asked for forgiveness,” I said, clearing my throat to try and maintain my composure. “From a lot of people. I made my amends. I learned to forgive myself. But I never really forgave you.”
He hung his head. “That’s understandable. I was an asshole to you. I’m sorry, I—”
“Mav.” I waited until he looked me in the eye before I touched his cheek. “I forgive you. I have to. Because if I hold the past against you, how can I expect the people I love to forgive me for all the ways I hurt them? You’re human, so am I.”
“Yeah, but—”
I boldly silenced him with a tender kiss, knowing he needed the same compassion I had early in my recovery, when I still felt like the lowest form of life for the messes I’d made. “No buts. You deserve to be forgiven. Just like I did.”
He closed his eyes and I knew he was having a hard time believing he’d earned my forgiveness. “Codie, I’d do anything for a do-over, to erase that time. But I swear to you, I thought I was doing the right thing by pushing you away.” He curled his hands around my waist. “I was a mess. And I didn’t want to make a mess of your life too. As much as it killed me to think about, I imagined you going off to college, meeting a nice guy, settling down, having a few babies… just like we always talked about.”
The fact that I still hadn’t had those babies was a bit of a sore spot for me. Especially with every birthday that passed. I knew I didn’t have an expiration date, like a block of cheese, but my mother sometimes made me feel like I did.
