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“Cash, please,” I beg.
“I loved the illusion of you,” he pauses, “of us.” He shakes his head as if he’s trying to work it out in his own head. “I wanted you so bad that I was blind, but you never belonged to me.”
“No.” I don’t want to hear him say it.
“You always belonged to him.” There is a crack in his voice, a crevasse opening between us. I am on the other side, and he is out of reach.
“What’s changed?” I ask him.
“Everything,” he tells me, before throwing some clothes in the bag.
“I’ll go see another specialist. I’ll see a fucking psychiatrist. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it!” I beg him while grabbing the bag from his grip and throwing it on the floor.
“You were right,” he tells me and I look at him, confused. “This whole time I was trying to fix you, but you’re not broken.” A cloud passes over his face.
I will be broken for him if that’s what he needs. I will be someone for him to fix if that’s what it takes for him to stay.
“I think I am broken,” I whisper, holding onto the edge of the dresser.
“You were always meant to fly.” He knits his eyebrows together, “But your wings were clipped.” He takes my face in his hands, and it’s all that’s holding me up. “I want you to go to him.” His eyes convey what his heart can’t. “Maybe you don’t have a lot of time left, but you should spend it with him,” he whispers to me, and I can’t stop the tears from falling.
“But don’t ask me to stick around and watch it.” His voice wavers.
“Cash…” His name on my lips is desperate and raw, “I love you.”
“I know.” His voice is ragged and I can feel his hands tremble against mine.
“Stay with me,” I whisper.
“I can’t.” He lets me go and I feel the loss as if I’m stripped naked in a freezing room.
I don’t understand him at all. Anger bursts through my veins.
“Why did you fight so hard to have me when you were just going to throw me away?” I demand, smacking my palm on his chest.
“Mia,” he pleads desperately.
“Why did you let me believe in this illusion that I deserved you?” I cry, closing my fist and weakly pounding his chest.
“You’re just going to give me away like you fucking own me!” I shout. “You don’t get to decide. You don’t get to just hand me over to the one person you hate!” Both fists settle against his chest and he grabs onto my wrists.
“I don’t hate Jack!” He raises his voice, startling me. “How can you not know that I love him?” His expression softens and he releases his grip on my wrists. “I can still love Jack while hating the things he does,” he explains.
“I love you both.” Cash slumps down onto the edge of the bed, our bed, and he places his face in his hands. He’s just like me, in love with two people at the same time, just in different ways. How did I not see this before?
“You don’t think I know you’ve watched him over the years? You may not have been in contact with him, but you spoke to him with the songs you wrote.” Cash is right. I can’t deny it. Maybe I didn’t realize at the time I was doing it, but I do now.
“There are things I can’t give you. Things only the two of you have together.” His brows knit together as he tries to get me to see the point I am missing. I am making this so hard on him, but I can’t let go. I don’t want to let go of us.
Silence fills the room as I contemplate the weight of his words.
“He loves you, Mia.” The anguish in his eyes tears me apart. “He needs you just as much as you need him. You might not see that now, but…”
“You don’t know that,” I argue.
“I do know,” he sighs. “Every fucking song he writes is for you, Mia.”
I try to deny it, but I’ve known this for a long time. Every time I heard one of his songs on the radio, it was like an invisible cord tethering us together, and my heart knew the song was a message meant just for me. He never let me go, just like he said he wouldn’t.
