“I don’t even really remember,” I lied. I remembered everything we’d talked about. In fact, I’d replayed every word of our conversation in my head at least a hundred times.
Maggie raised an eyebrow and sat silently, awaiting a more acceptable response.
“Oh my god. I don’t know. We talked about the fact that I got left at the altar. How spending a lot of his twenties in the spotlight wasn’t what he’d imagined when he dreamed of being acountry singer, and how maybe he’s just a lost cowboy after all.” The words flew from my mouth as if I’d just opened the flood gates.
I turned my attention to Maggie. Her mouth hung open, her eyes wide and her arms folded across her chest.
“I don’t even know how to respond to that,” she said.
I almost spoke in an attempt to defend myself, but Maggie beat me to it.
“You’re telling me you had a conversation with this man about one of the two major life events that has happened to you, he opened up to you about what his not-so-glamorous life has been like in the spotlight, and yet, you don’t think that qualifies as something that you should share with your best friend? You’ve lost your damn mind, Scarlett Carson,” she huffed jokingly.
I released a sigh of relief after hearing her tone, signaling she wasn’tactuallyupset with me.
“I mean, it was just a conversation. It just sort of happened, and honestly, I think he needed someone to talk to and I happened to be there. That’s it,” I responded.
Maggie stood from the bed, pushing me in front of the mirror until our reflection stared back. Me in front of her, standing in nothing but a nude bra, my brown satin skirt, and boots. Her behind me, messy blonde hair plopped on top of her head and her hands resting on my shoulders.
She cranked her head to the right to get a better look. “Scar, you do know that it’s okay…” She paused. “It’s okay to move on and let yourself feel, I mean. I’m not telling you to jump into anything with anyone, and I’m not saying that’s what you’re avoiding with Stetson. I just mean to move on and experience life in whatever manner that looks like. You’ve always had a way of holding on to guilt that ultimately hinders you from moving forward. You think that if you stay sad, or angry, or if you refuse to enjoy life, then at some point, you’ll be forgiven, but the thingis, there’s nothing to forgive. So while you’re waiting around, the years of your life are passing you by before you even know it.”
My nose scrunched in attempt to gatekeep the tear that had swelled in the corner of my eye.
“But I’m not sure I should get to move on, let alone be happy. Not after everything.”
Her palms pressed firmly into my shoulders.
“You can’t punish yourself for things you’ve done or the decisions you’ve made. And know that I’m referring to two different scenarios here because the one from all those years ago still affects every other one, but in regard to Zane, you have to understand that you don’t have anything to prove to anyone and you don’t owe anyone anything. That means you don’t have to stay sad for a certain period of time. You don’t have to stay alone for a certain period of time. It’s your life, you get to make the rules. So, if you enjoy having conversations with Stetson and he makes you feel good, then keep having those conversations. Because at some point, you’re going to have to accept that someone else is going to make you feel good again, probably better than Zane ever made you feel, and those are feelings you deserve to have.”
The tear fell free, streaming down my cheek.
“But are they?” I rotated around until I was looking right at her. “Sometimes I wonder if bad shit happens to me because of the selfish decision I made when I was younger, and then when things start to feel…” I hesitated. “Good? Hell, even normal, a cloud of guilt finds a way to permanently reside over my head,” I said, feeling flustered. “The truth is that I see the failure of my marriage to Zane as a sign from god. A sign that I don’t deserve to get married.”
“Scar, you can’t truly believe that. The wedding was a sign that Zane actually sucked and wasn’t the person you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with. And I don’t mean Zanewas actually a bad person. I just think he was always your top priority, and that was never reciprocated. Zane was Zane’s top priority and Scarlett came a few spots below that. I’m not saying you dodged a bullet—actually, I am.”
A soft laugh left my mouth.
“What’s so funny?”
“Stetson made that exact comment.”
“Hm. Is that so? Well, that man is full of surprises, isn’t he,” she said, smiling so big I thought she might burst.
I sniffed back more tears, swiping away a few stragglers while I pulled Maggie into my chest.
“I love you. Thank you.”
“I love you too.”
I grabbed my coffee from the center console of my Jeep and slammed the door shut with my butt. My hands were overflowing with shit that I probably didn’t need, but I wanted to be as prepared as possible. A laptop, a notebook, my journal, some pens, and a picture of Maggie and me.
Thinking back, a bag would’ve been helpful, but we’re past that at this point.
The sound of my boots on the concrete echoed through my chest, syncing with my faster than normal heartbeat. I was more nervous than I expected, but I wasn’t really sure what to expect and that thought alone made me feel like I was going to throw up.
“Good morning, Scarlett!” Ms. Hansen’s smile glistened as she aimed herself straight for me. “Here, let me help you with some of that!”
Ms. Hansen may have been older, but she was one of the best dressed women in this entire town. Her style was impeccable. Today she was wearing a fitted, long-sleeve black shirt, layered with a beautiful fringed poncho in an oatmeal shade with black and tan markings. She’d paired them with faded black skinny jeans tucked pristinely into a pair of stark black leather Lucchese boots.
