Chapter 62
sixty-two
EZRA
I find Maverick huddled in a ball in the snow, sobbing.
Part of me wants to comfort him, and the other part wants to smack him.
If he didn’t look like such a pathetic mess right now, the second option may have won.
Instead, I sit down next to him, close enough to feel the warmth of his body, but not quite close enough to touch.
“What was that?” I ask, keeping my voice quiet. Maverick lifts his head. His eyes are red-rimmed and bloodshot from crying.
“I could’ve lost you,” he says, his voice small and rough from crying.
“Which would’ve been my fault and not Jo’s. If you want to take your anger out on anyone, it should be me.”
“She told you to listen to the podcast!” he argues. His face, which was already pink from the cold, turns a deeper shade with his anger.
“And she was right. I needed to hear it. I didn’t fully believe how badly I hurt everyone.
It was easier to hold on to the belief that I didn’t have a choice, and nothing was my fault.
But that’s not the truth.” Maverick goes to open his mouth and probably argue, but I hold up my hand to stop him.
“I know a lot of it wasn’t in my control, but I’m sure I could’ve found a safe way to contact you.
I didn’t because it hurt me less. I knew you would beg me to come with me, but I also knew I couldn’t, so I saved myself from hearing your pleas by letting you believe I was gone. ”
Maverick looks at me like he’s just now putting it all together and maybe I will really lose him this time, but it would be no one’s fault but mine.
“I’m the selfish one, Maverick. Not Jo.”
“Fuck,” Maverick gasps, fresh tears following the path of the old ones down his red cheeks.
“Fuck! I fucked up so bad. Fuck!” He’s grabbing at his hair and pulling, on the verge of a panic attack, when I hear footsteps crunch in the snow.
They’re too heavy to be Jo. I go to turn to see who was able to sneak up on us when pain blooms on the side of my head.
The last thing I hear is Maverick screaming my name before the world turns black.