Chapter Fifty-Four
Paige
He plays the final chord, then deadens it with his hand. No fade out, no flourish. Pure silence. He looks straight into the camera, straight at me, and suddenly, it’s like we’re alone, back on tour, just us two.
My lungs forget how to work, my pulse hammers, and my breathing comes in low, short bursts. The comments blur on the screen in a frenzy, too fast for me to actually read.
OMFG, whoever she is, she’s so fucking lucky
Sick tour, dude, can’t wait to catch you again soon
Foxy Knoxy you don’t need her, I’m here baby
Again! Play it again!!!!
“If you see this,” Maddox says, staring into the lens like he knows I’m on the other side. “I’m not asking for anything.”
His throat works on a swallow, and my heart jerks against my ribs. I lean forward instinctively, like being closer to the screen will stop it from ending, like I can physically hold on to his words.
“I just wanted you to know, I meant it. All of it. Every single fucking second.”
Then the screen cuts to black.
Live video ended. 298k viewers.
“Holy shit,” Olive whispers, swiping under her eyes.
My thumb stabs at the tablet screen like it’ll bring him back. It doesn’t.
I’m shaking, jolting to my feet, tablet clattering to the floor as my apartment fades into the background. The silence feels louder than his voice ever was, but even in the quiet, I can still hear the last line, the last note as it faded into nothing.
He didn’t apologize, not really. He never even said my name. But exposing himself like that in front of thousands says more than a single word ever could. That song is mine, written for me, composed from pain and regret and it was so fucking beautiful.
I want to be mad. I am mad. He kept something from me he never should have.
And that type of betrayal isn’t something I can brush aside with pretty lyrics and a pitiful look.
So why can’t I stop staring at the blank screen?
Picturing his face? Hearing how his voice shook on the last chord, the way his breathing was all wrong?
Even through the camera, he looked like he’s been hurting the same way I am.
I blink, the room coming back into focus, and my gaze lands on the photo of Penny, on her beautiful smile, her short brown hair, her big blue eyes that always seemed slightly too big.
What are you so afraid of?
Her question haunts me, the same one she asked me the night she died.
“Paige? Are you okay?” Olive asks gently.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, answering both her and Penny’s questions at the same time, finally able to give her an answer. “I’m scared.”
Olive releases a sigh. “Why?”
“Being hurt, I guess. Being lied to, losing someone important to me again, losing someone I lo…”
I trail off, the word landing like a stone in my stomach.
“Paige? Someone you what?”
Love.
I’m in love with him.
I don’t know what I’m doing until I’m already moving, frantically searching the living room and grabbing my bag, my keys, jamming my feet into my sneakers before rushing for the door.
“My phone? Where’s my phone?” I ask, whirling around.
“Here,” she says, thrusting it into my hand and pulling me in for a hug that lasts all of two seconds. “Now go. Get your man.”
Rain thunders from the sky, the clouds dark and ominous as I dart to my car. My hands tremble as I push the ignition button, the engine roaring to life, ready for…
“Fuck,” I hiss, yanking my phone from my pocket and pulling up my messages. I scroll, fast and reckless, until I land on Eli, or Beau, it doesn’t matter who, typing out words that don’t make sense, before trying again.
Where does he live?
The seconds tick by, each one dragging the longer I stare at the screen.
Eli
… are you okay?
My stomach flips, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
No. But I need to see him
The address comes through, no follow-up, no further questions, just quiet permission.
I back out of the drive, heading into the city. It feels different, blurry, unreal, new. Headlights pass like shooting stars, every stoplight a chance to turn around, but as soon as it changes, it’s like a race to the finish line just to get to his house.
Street by street, I get closer to the part of him I’ve never seen, his world, his space, and my fingers tighten around the wheel as I grow closer to my destination. When I finally pull up, I cut the engine, looking through the rain-streaked windows toward his door.
My hands rest on my thighs, the bassline of my heart going haywire, beating through my skin.
I could still leave; no one would need to know I’m here—well, no one except Eli and Olive.
Taking a deep breath, I open the car door and step out into the downpour, my shirt and leggings soaking through instantly.
The house is quiet, older than I expected, too, the path and small garden out front well taken care of. My tongue feels too big for my mouth as I approach the wooden stairs, walking slowly up them to the willow-green front door.
The color he painted for his grandma, kept after all this time.
Something about that hits as hard as his song. He could have changed it, could have moved on, but he kept this piece of her, right here quietly guarding the front of his life. And I’m not ready for how much that hurts. How much it means, what it says, without saying anything at all.
I close my eyes, steeling myself, and then knock, the sound of the low thud of my knuckles against wood being lost in the rain. I wait, hearing nothing inside, and try again, harder this time.
The porch light snaps on, the lock clicking, and then the door cracks open.
Maddox, or some version of him, appears in the threshold, eyes rimmed red like he hasn’t slept in weeks. His thick, dark hair sticks up in erratic tufts, like he’s clawed at it too many times to count and there’s stubble lining his jaw, not in a sexy, effortless way, but in a given-up-days-ago way.
God, he looks…awful. Not just tired, hollowed out. Like he gave too much of himself away and didn’t leave anything behind to hold him up. His fingers curl around the door, the paint brighter now under the porch light, glowing softly like a beacon.
The part of him that remembers the people he’s loved and lost.
My eyes snap to his, breath catching as the realization sinks into my chest, slow and sharp.
I’m one of them now too.
Whether he lost me or not, I’m part of what he carries, and that thought unravels something inside me. My chest caves, shoulders shaking, and before I can stop it, a sob escapes me. Tiny and broken and exhausted.
His face crumples, hand reaching for me before stopping himself.
“Paige.”
My name’s a whisper, like it hurts him to say it out loud, but not saying it at all would hurt worse.
And that’s all it takes. I step forward, my fingers lifting to his face, brushing gently over the rough stubble on his cheek.
His breath stutters, eyes closing, like he’s afraid if he looks at me, he’ll fall apart.
And maybe I will too.
Because this is the moment everything breaks. Everything I tried to hold on to in order to keep him out, every layer of grief and fury and longing, it all shatters in a single touch. My hand glides into his hair, and I lean in at the same time he does too.
Our lips meet somewhere in the middle, not fast or hard or all-consuming like it usually is. Softer, sweeter, more aching than ever before. A kiss making up for every word not said, every sleepless night apart, some semblance of forgiveness, even if we aren’t exactly there yet.
His hands move, one cupping the back of my head, keeping me close as his tongue dances with mine. The other lowers to the small of my back, pressing me against him, anchoring us together like he’s drowning and in need of saving.
And if he is, I’m drowning with him.