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“I thought so. I’m going to make dinner. Do you need to go to the bathroom or anything first?”
“I need you to undo these damn handcuffs.”
“No.”
“No? Why not? You do realize it’s against the law to keep someone prisoner, right?”
“Really? That’s good to know. Too bad I’m just now learning that. There’s no point in changing now.”
“Bryant—”
“After all, if I’m going to jail already, I might as well keep going. In for a penny and all that jazz.”
“You really are an asshole,” Maggie huffs.
“What’s wrong, baby? Don’t like me with balls?”
“I’d like to kick you in the balls. Does that count?”
“Violence doesn’t solve anything, sweet Maggie,” I tell her, suddenly feeling deflated.
I figure that Maggie probably sees the change on my face, because she lets out a sigh that sounds like I feel… exhausted.
“Bryant,” she says, the word coming out more like a sigh.
“I don’t understand how we came to this, Maggie May.” I tell her, going to sit in the chair beside the bed. I brace my arms on my legs, leaning in, trying to sort through everything I’d like to say to her and honestly not able to form words for any of it.
“You listened to my mother. That’s how, Bryant.”
I give her a smile that doesn’t really have humor in it. “It seemed to make sense at the time. It still does, Maggie.”
“Bryant, you have me handcuffed to the headboard of a bed. That doesn’t make sense.”
“Maggie, we’ve spent years running away from one another and yet, always circling back because even if our heads don’t realize it, our hearts know that we belong to one another. Fuck, woman, I can’t remember a day in my life that I didn’t want you in it. That I didn’t need to talk to you.”
“Bry,” she whispers, and this time I can hear the emotion in her voice.
“And I’m going back all the way to grade school, Maggie. You’re woven into the very breath that I breathe. You always have been. I can’t get you out of me. Fuck, I don’t even want to. I’m asking you to give us this time. Let your fears go and your heart open enough to just try,” I ask her, and I don’t even care that it sounds like I’m begging.
I watch as she moistens her lips, her beautiful brown eyes full of emotion and pain. I also see the fear. Sometimes late at night, I force myself to go back in time. I think of Maggie before she got pregnant, before my parents’ hate touched her, before we lost Brylee…before we lost our way. Her smile, her face and especially those gorgeous eyes were so full of life. It shined so bright it felt like summer sunshine and it warmed every part of me. She made me feel joy that I don’t think I ever felt before she came into my life. The sound of her laughter makes me feel lighter even now—although she doesn’t laugh as much these days. Then again, neither do I. Losing Brylee marked us in every way. There are spots of light these days, moments of pure joy, but the sadness, the emptiness, is never far behind. At least for me, the guilt for feeling joy has faded. Brylee was everything good in this world. If Maggie’s laugh is joy, then Brylee’s laugh was a million times more powerful. It was so big that there will always be a darkness where once there was light. There’s no way to change that.
“What if it’s too late, Bry?” she whispers, pulling my attention away from the memories of our daughter and back to the here and now. “We’ve wasted so much time,” she says, sounding so lost that I get up and crouch down in front of her, resting my hands on her legs, the heat from the touch flooding through me like an electric current.
“It’s never too late, Maggie. Not if love is involved, and you do love me. You can’t deny that baby.”
“I can’t. I’ve always loved you,” she admits and until this moment, I didn’t realize that I was scared that feeling was gone for her. My eyes close in relief. When I slowly open them back up, Maggie is staring at me, her own eyes overly bright.
“And this man in Dallas?” I ask, clearing my throat, hating to bring him up, but needing to know what I’m fighting against.
She shakes her head. “I’m not ready to talk about that, but I can promise you that I’m not in love with anyone else, Bryant.” I frown, not happy. I want her to talk about him. I want to know what’s going on. I don’t even understand why there is another man. If she wanted more, it should have been me that she came to. I don’t say any of that, however. I don’t want to break this tentative truce that we’ve begun.
