19. Mai
Mai
Mai flopped down on her sofa the second she walked in the door to her house; she didn’t care that she was creasing her dress.
She lay there looking up at the ceiling of her living room. Frowning, she noted a small spot in the corner of the room. Was that a water stain? The bathroom was right above that corner—maybe she had a leak?
She loved her townhouse, the first home she’d ever bought. When she got her permanent contract, she steeled herself and, after years of moving from place to place, decided it was time to lay down roots.
When the real estate agent showed her the house, with its open plan living room and kitchen, two good-sized bedrooms, and a backyard that was private but still drenched in sunlight, she could see herself living there and put in an offer.
It wasn’t the mansion that she and Ford once dreamed about. The one that he insisted needed at least six bedrooms, as he claimed they were going to have four kids—Mai had laughed at him and told him two, maximum.
Looking back, it was hard to remember ever being that carefree young girl. She’d had no doubts that she and Ford would be growing old together, and yet she still left.
Why had she done that?
The decision at the time seemed so clear-cut, but now… now she wished she'd chosen differently.
Mai lifted her hand to her face to wipe at the tears rolling down her cheek.
What the hell had she done?
Why did she leave him?
Her heart hurt to think about it. All the feelings she’d suppressed began to claw their way back to the surface.
Seeing him in person stole the breath from her body. All she wanted to do was tell him about all the time they’d missed together. Tell him about her struggles and her triumphs.
Her phone beeped, pulling her from her self-pity. Grabbing it, she saw a message from Clara.
‘Ford and Donnie have both asked for your phone number. Can I give it to them?’
Mai stared at the phone. Her heart leapt, and her breath hitched. He wanted to talk to her.
With trembling hands, she typed back, ‘That’s fine.’
‘Okay, if you need anything, let me know. I can come over.’
Mai smiled down at her pregnant friend’s message, and her fingers flew over her phone. ‘Can you still fit behind the steering wheel?’
Giggling to herself, she watched as the typing bubbles appeared and disappeared until Clara finally answered.
‘No.’ With a selfie of Clara in the car, her stomach pushed up against the steering wheel.
‘You’re an idiot!’
Mai’s giggling turned into a belly laugh at her friend’s antics. Wiping at her eyes, she pulled herself off the sofa and wandered upstairs. She needed to shower.
Her phone bleeped with another message as she was about to step under the spray. Assuming it would be Clara saying something else ridiculous, she snatched her phone off the sink to check.
Her body turned to ice.
It wasn’t Clara.
It was Ford.
She hadn’t thought that her friend would immediately give him her number or that he would text straight away.
Standing naked in her bathroom, she read his short message.
‘Sie. I need to see you.’
She analysed his words.
What did he mean?
He needed to see her.
To shout at her more?
To berate her?
To tell her he hated her?
To tell her he still loved her—
She pushed that last errant thought down. That is not what he would be saying.
She stepped into the shower, lowering the temperature to help cool her flushed skin, giving herself some time to think about how to reply.
She wanted to say yes, but was that a dumb thing to do? Then, she asked herself, why say yes to Clara sending him her number if she didn’t want to see him?
Wrapping her towel firmly around herself, she picked up her phone and replied.
‘Yes. We have a lot to discuss.’
She read her message a few times before hitting send. Then she resisted the urge to keep her phone clutched in her hand until he replied and placed it back down on the bathroom sink while she got dry and dressed in her comfiest pyjamas.
When her phone rang, she lunged for it.
“Hello,” she answered breathlessly.
“Sie,” a deep voice said.
Mai deflated when she realised it wasn’t Ford. “Hi Donnie.”
“Good to speak to you again, Sie,” Donnie said dryly.
Mai sighed. “Yeah, sorry about that. I freaked out when I saw you.”
“You’ve been hiding for a long time. It must have been a shock. I hardly believed it myself. When I saw you at the concert, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure.”
“So you stalked me to work,” Mai whispered.
“Yes. You’re a tough woman to find. The easiest way was through the hospital website.”
Mai rolled her eyes. She hadn’t wanted her picture online when she had spent so long in anonymity, but the hospital exec insisted that as a Consultant in Burra Creek Base Hospital, she needed to be on the website.
“I waited in that corridor for two days before you showed up.”
Mai pulled her phone away from her ear and stared at it. Had he really just said two days? When she put it back, he was still talking.
“If there was even a small chance it was you, I couldn’t let you slip through my fingers. Ford needs closure. He’s a good man. He deserves that from you.”
Tears pricked at her eyes. Ford wanted closure. Of course he did. After what she did to him, there was no way he would want anything else. And that was okay. She needed it as well.
Or maybe a new start.
She shoved that errant thought away. That was not something that she could have. It wasn’t something that she deserved.
“I know Donnie.”
“Good. Now—“
Mai cut him off. “Before you continue. I need to tell you something.” She waited for him to reply.
“I’m listening.”
“I will never be able to apologise enough for the way I left. I won’t try and justify to you what I did, but I want you to know that not a day has gone past when I haven’t regretted the decision I made at twenty-two.
I thought so many times about getting in touch, but fear paralysed me.
Donnie… I’m sorry. I know my words will never be adequate, but I needed to tell you. ”
Donnie was so silent that Mai worried for a moment that he'd hung up, and was about to say something else when he finally said.
“We would have been your family.” His words were quiet.
Mai’s tears spilt. “I know that now.”
She heard him sniff on the other end of the phone, then clear his throat. “Anyway. Thanks. I’ve got some business to discuss with you.”
“Okay,” Mai said hesitantly.
“Ford told you that you’ve got a lot of royalties from the songs.” Donnie was always straight to the point.
Mai mopped at her tears and nose before she spoke. “Yes.”
“I hired a financial adviser to look after your interests. I’ll ask them to contact you directly. But they’ve grown your portfolio significantly.”
“I have a portfolio?” Mai said in surprise. She thought they would have chucked the money in the bank and forgotten about it.
“Of course you do. You may not have been there, but I wasn’t going to let that money not work for you.” Donnie sounded offended.
He had always been an excellent manager, looking out for the welfare of every artist under his umbrella.
She’d read over the years about his management company and how the artists he took on didn’t end up broke in the gutter. And she saw more than a few photos of Donnie personally escorting people to rehab.
“You were gone, but until I saw a death certificate, I was going to ensure your money worked for you.”
Mai didn’t know what to say, so she whispered, “Thanks, Donnie.”
“The exact figures are with your financial adviser, who has requested an email address as we’ll need a fair bit of legal identification to get this all sorted.”
“Of course.” Mai nodded, even though he couldn’t see her.
“Great. They’ve given me some rough figures. Including all your investments and assets, they’re estimating your net wealth to be about one hundred and ten million dollars.”
Mai swallowed air and began to choke. Moving the phone away from her mouth, she coughed until she could breathe again.
“What?” she whispered.
“It’s only an estimate at the moment. It will likely be, give or take, a few million. But that’s ballpark,” Donnie said briskly, as if announcing she was worth over one hundred million dollars was a normal occurrence.
Although maybe it was when you were the manager of the most successful band in the world.
She covered her face with her hand. One hundred million dollars.
“I’m going to Hamilton Island on holiday,” she blurted out.
Donnie chuckled quietly. “That is a very modest aim for someone with as much money as you have.”
“I’ve always wanted to go. It looks lovely.” She'd seen pictures of the Australian island but never been able to justify the expense of going alone.
Maybe Ford would—
She cut that ridiculous thought off. He would not be going anywhere with her.
He probably wouldn’t ever speak to her again. She rubbed at her chest above her heart as it clenched.
He still hated her.
“We went thirteen years ago.” Donnie pulled her out of her musing.
“Was it amazing?” Mai couldn’t believe she was asking about an old holiday, but at this point, she had no idea what to say.
“No,” Donnie said flatly.
“Oh.”
“Ford was at his worst,” Donnie supplied. “He'd spiralled, and him and Ryan went on a bender.”
“Shit,” Mai muttered.
“Shit indeed. Sex, drugs and rock and roll.” Donnie sighed deeply.
Something sharp pierced her heart. She knew Ford had moved on. She saw all the women he had been linked with over the years, but it was tough to hear Donnie, someone who knew the full truth, say it.
“They were out of control. They destroyed the hotel room. It took a lot of money in the right places to stop that from reaching the headlines. I took Ford to rehab for the first time after that.”
Mai wasn’t sure if Donnie was talking to her anymore or just lost in his own memories, so she didn’t say anything. Even though it hurt so much, she needed to know about the mess she caused by leaving.
“And Ryan, but he checked himself out in a week. Ford stayed for the whole three months. He stayed off drugs for six months that time. Then we were performing in Las Vegas, and he fell off the wagon.”
Mai remembered the footage.
Ford had been in the middle of a concert. He could barely stand, definitely couldn’t sing, and before they were even eight songs into the set, he began to trash the equipment. Breaking guitars. Pushing speakers into the audience—he was lucky not to kill anyone with his antics.
He'd finished his rampage by giving the crowd the finger and stomping off stage.
“No amount of money could keep that one out of the press, as he imploded too publicly.” Donnie sighed. “The come down after that was a bitch, and we had to cancel the rest of that tour.”
“For ‘exhaustion’,” Mai murmured.
“Yeah. He wasn’t exhausted. He was just shoving everything up his nose he could find.”
A tear rolled down Mai’s cheek. She had buried herself in her studies every time she read an article about Ford being out of control. Reassuring herself that the media exaggerated everything and that Donnie would look after him.
“That was the second time I took him to rehab.” Donnie didn’t wait for her to say anything. He laughed bitterly. “It finally took after the fifth stay.”
“I’m sorry,” Mai murmured.
“Do you think all of this was your fault?” Donnie’s voice didn’t give away his feelings.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“You left him.”
“Yes.” The tears flowed quicker.
“He destroyed himself.”
Mai blinked. Donnie wasn’t blaming her?
“It was my fault,” she muttered.
“A million men have had their hearts broken before, and they didn’t respond how Ford did.”
“If I was there, it wouldn’t have happened.” Mai’s voice became stronger.
“Maybe, maybe not. Sie, I’m not going to pretend that I haven’t blamed you, wished that you hadn’t disappeared.
But time is a great way of gaining perspective.
Ford chose how to react to you leaving. You didn’t choose for him.
He decided to get lost in his own hubris while you studied and made a life for yourself.
“It’s up to you both now what you do from here. I'm glad we found you Sie, you’ll always be family to me. Never forget that.”
Mai wiped at her eyes and nodded to the phone, forgetting again that he couldn’t see her. She managed to whisper, “Thanks, Donnie. I missed you, too.”