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My heart skips a beat as the door to the restaurant slams open, gusts of cold air rushing in with her. My breath catches in my throat as my eyes find Hannah darting toward the table to embrace Sage in a hug. She is oblivious to me, so I take the moment and allow her presence to consume me.
Hannah Thatcher-Miles, the love of my life.
FIFTY-TWO
HANNAH
“I can’t believe you guys are here!” I squeal as I go down the line, hugging Sage, then hugging Gen and Jackson, then giving Gabe a fist bump because Kara very well might send a hitman after me if I get too close to her boyfriend. I awkwardly step back to Jackson’s side, where he wraps me in another embrace.
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world, bug,” Jackson says as he presses his lips to the side of my head. We talked briefly when he came to say hello after the show, mostly about mom. He apologized for not saying anything sooner. While I appreciate him finally noticing it’s a problem with her, I’m too excited to see him to care about that right now. He’s here and that is more than enough.
Leaving again has been lonely, but nothing like it was in New York.
There’s something comforting about knowing I have a home to go to, friends to go home to, a family. A few months ago I never would have said Atlanta was home, but it feels a lot more like home than Live Oak or New York ever did.
However, the singular person who has made Atlanta feelthat way for me is nowhere in sight and my stomach drops with the realization that he’s not here.
I guess I should have expected that, eventually, he would get tired of waiting for me to respond or give him the time to talk, but a small, delusional part of me still hopes that he wants this…even if I can’t figure out a way to let it happen yet.
I don’t think he tried to hurt me.
For a little while there, it felt intentional—like a form of payback for years of disagreement—but in the two months since I’ve seen him, I’ve gotten a lot more clarity on the issue.
He didn’t mean to hurt me, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t.
The microphone squeals as the MC steps up onto the stage to announce the beginning of open mic night. The cast ofMaybe, Definitely, Notries to catch as many open mic and karaoke nights as possible. While I realize we do plenty of singing while on stage, there’s something comforting about letting loose but also being able to have that creative outlet.
I’m not sure what I plan to sing, but I definitely plan on getting over to that sign-up sheet soon and getting some stage time.
“Thank you to everyone for coming to our weekly open mic night here at Stage Left,” the MC says with his lips almost flush against the microphone, “for the first song, I’ll admit it’s definitely a first. I’ve never heard this one at all, let alone performed at one of these. That being said, here is Liam Park.” He steps back from the microphone as a figure emerges from the wing.
My eyes go from the stage to my brother, who simply shrugs. My heart is pounding in my chest so loud it consumes me. The cold winter air does nothing to comfort the burn as blood rushes to my face, my skin no doubt a startling shade ofcrimson as I shift my attention back to the stage where Liam is now standing. He’s staring down at me with an acoustic guitar in hand. It’s not his guitar—this one looks to be light wood, whereas his has a dark, rich hue.
He looks at home with it slung over his shoulder just the same.
Liam’s fingers tremble ever so slightly as he adjusts the mic stand and clears his throat before speaking. “Hi, everyone...I’ll admit, I’m not typically one to do this. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever performed in an open mic night.”
He takes this moment to drag a guitar pick across the strings, causing an angelic sound to emanate through the air. “But the girl I’m in love with said to me recently that I’m not forthcoming enough with our relationship. I’ll be honest, at first I didn’t get it…but now I do. She deserves someone who would shout it from the rooftops that they’re hers, making it crystal clear to the world…so with that, I’m going to make an absolute fool of myself. Hannah, I love you.”
My eyes brim with tears, my face a mix of pain and joy as I attempt to contain my growing smile. All eyes in the restaurant are glued to us—me taking in every moment and him strumming the guitar on stage. The guests watch, entranced and captivated by his music, and I’m right there along with them.
The sound shifts from random notes to a song I know well with a distinct backing track playing through the speakers. It’s a song that he has told me on no less than two occasions is the cheesiest song he’s ever heard from the most poorly written show he’s ever seen. He starts to sing “Your Biggest Fan” fromJonas L.A.,and while I’m completely enamored, I’m also consumed by secondhand embarrassment.
Something tells me that is by design.
The song is written for Nick Jonas’s tenor voice, so Liam has to pitch the song down to work as he’s a natural baritone. At first, I register the decision as a cheesy choice on his part, but then I remember the context the song had in the show.
Nick’s character had been dodgy about sharing his adoration for his counterpart, Macy. The song is used in a scene where he makes the conscious decision to outwardly and vocally own his feelings for her, allowing her the opportunity to be wholly honest with those around her.
My cheeks burn as I sink into my chair, using the collar of my shirt to shield my face. His commitment to the rap portion of the song feels like a physical punch in my gut, but he raps with no sign of embarrassment or shame. I want to scream, but instead stay silent and motionless as I allow him to show his commitment.
If it wasn’t so sweet, I’d punch him for embarrassing me. As the song comes to a close, I find my feet moving of their own volition. The crowd claps as Gabe and Sage hoot and holler with little restraint, causing the pink tinging Liam’s face to grow to a full crimson. He strums the guitar one last time before setting it on the stand. He steps off the stage, meeting me on the floor, a timid expression painting his brow.
“Hey, princess.” He exhales with a grin.
“Hey.” I smile back at him, my eyes misty from the emotion of seeing him again for the first time in months.
“Can we talk?”
