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That, and the fact that she’s not mine anymore.
The eyes that once held so much love for me and no longer do is all the confirmation I need.
The realization hits me in a way I’ve only ever felt once–when I realized my mom left. My heart pounds against my chest, but then I swear it all but stops beating. I somehow manage not to misstep with Avery despite the sliver of hope abandoning me and begging me to crumble right here.
Halfway down the imaginary aisle that will be marked by chairs tomorrow, I run my free hand through my hair in an attempt to keep my emotions at bay, but I can’t take my eyes off her. From a few feet away, I can see her clearly enough to watch a few tears silently escape before she looks away, shifting her gaze to my sister.
It’s the only option I have right now, so I do the same. Thankfully, Avery has blurred out anything but her future husband, her face glowing as her eyes lock on his.
When we reach the end of the aisle, my sister leans in to hug me. The extra tight squeeze she gives tells me she wasn’t oblivious to what was happening around her. I let her go and step back, but instead of sitting in the non-existent chair in the front row, like I will tomorrow, I retreat back inside the house.
I can’t be out here anymore, and my only duty in the ceremony has been fulfilled.
Only a few minutes pass before there’s a soft knock on my bedroom door. I don’t respond, but it creaks open slowly anyway. I look up from where I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, my elbows resting on my knees, my head held up by my palms. My gaze falls back to the floor as Maci makes her way into the room. Even though she leaves space between us, the mattress next to me sinks a little with her weight.
“Mack,” she whispers, and I can tell she’s trying to hold back more tears. She patiently waits for me, and I don’t know how much time goes by before I look at her. Her face is red, her eyes are puffy as silent tears stream down her cheeks. I know this isn’t easy for her, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice still quiet as it breaks on the apology. She looks like she’s struggling to find her next words, and I’m not even sure what I want to hear. Nothing she says will make a difference. I know she doesn’t want to hurt me. I believe she still loves me even though it’s not in the way I want. I wish things could have been different, but they aren’t, and nothing will change that. “Are you okay?” she asks so softly I hardly hear her.
“No.” Tears burn at my eyes as if I gave them permission with that admittance.
She starts to reach for me but must think better of it because she pulls back. Her voice cracks, her tear filled eyes locking on mine. “You know that I love you, right?”
“I know,” I admit, believing her, before a rush of spite floods me at the thought of how demeaning those words feel. “Just not enough.” The truth fills the space between us.
“Mack.” Hearing my name from her lips in a hushed voice used to be everything I wanted from the girl in front of me, but now it rattles me to my core. “Love is only one piece of the puzzle. It’s not enough.”
My eyes shoot to hers, locking on them, waiting for her to elaborate. She reaches for my hand, and I haven’t touched her in so long I let her lock her fingers with mine. God, I miss her, and she’s right next to me.
My gaze falls to our hands tangled together. “Why?” I don’t know exactly what I’m asking, but I hope she gives me the answer I’m looking for.
“You love me so much you’d do anything to make me happy.” Her thumb rubs across my hand, sending both comfort and rage through me.
“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” I mutter.
“I love you so much for it. You’ve always been there for me, and I know I’ve taken it for granted more often than not, but I think you lost yourself a little in loving me. It’s time for you to find yourself and be with someone who can help you do that.” Her words are soft, but they hurt as if they’re rocks.
“I want that person to be you.”
She’s silent, as if she either doesn’t know what to say or doesn’t want to say it.
“But you want to be that person for Dean,” I add, feeling like there’s a vice grip tightening around my heart as I say his name.
Sighing, she says, “I want us to both be happy.”
“And I don’t make you happy.” I say it somewhere between a question and a statement.
“Of course you do, but I think we both care enough about each other that we would be willing to sacrifice our own happiness to give the other person what they need. We don’t need the same things, Mack. It wouldn’t be a healthy relationship. We’d be holding each other back.”
“Seeing you happyiswhat I need. It’s what makes me happy.” I can hear the desperation in my voice as I silently pray she’ll see a new light.
“Then maybe I’m just selfish.” She pulls her hand back from mine, and I immediately feel empty without her touch. “There’s things I want in life I know you’d give me even though you don’t want them yourself. I’d let you give them to me, and you deserve more than that. You deserve someone who will give you as much as you’re willing to give them, and for it to be what you want rather than a sacrifice.” She looks to where she’s wringing her hands in her lap.
I fall back onto my bed, my hands running down my face. As much as I knew this was a possibility, I sure as hell am not prepared for it. I’m torn between denial and understanding, between wanting to keep fighting and knowing it’s time to quit, between telling her to leave and not wanting her to go.
“Will you lie down with me for a minute?” I stare at the ceiling, waiting for her response. She hesitates, but then I feel her next to me.
I lift my arm and she rolls into me, her head settling on my chest. Her arm shifts uncomfortably at her side, but then it lands softly across my stomach. I wrap my arm around her shoulder, rubbing my thumb across her bare skin. I feel her pinch the fabric of my shirt at my side between her fingers like she’s picking at a thread.
