The Bolter
Maggie
Five Years Ago
The first time I pulled away from Brody, it was out of pure jealousy.
I hadn’t consciously known I was doing it, or even why. It was just an instinct. A knee-jerk reaction that I hadn’t quite wanted to analyze too deeply.
All I knew was that I had to.
To stay safe, the voice in my head told me I needed some distance.
It had taken a few months before I realized what caused me to spiral the way I did after seeing Brody beside his family.
I was scared of being left.
He’d had this perfect family with corny jokes and easy smiles and a miraculously stable upbringing. And what did I have? A brother who didn’t really need me? A mother whose emotions dictated her life?
A father who had just made contact for the first time in fifteen
years?
No, I would never be good for someone like Brody. He needed someone normal. A girl who wasn’t dragging around an elephant’s weight of emotional baggage wherever she went.
And sooner or later, I knew he would realize it.
He had people to fall back on when times got tough, so what did he need me for?
Me with my broken brain and messy life and temper that rose up in the most bizarre of situations, without me even really knowing why.
I’d been quiet that night when I met his family, certain that they would see right through me, spot all the things I was trying
to hide.
Would they tell Brody he could do better? Would they encourage him to find some other girl?
It wasn’t until we were leaving dinner that I realized he’d be okay without me. He already had a family. A job he loved. A personality that made everyone love him at first sight.
He didn’t need the girl with the fucked-up head dragging him down.
So, I pulled back. It was for the best, I told myself. I’d initiate the soft breakup—if we were even at that point—and that way it would hurt less when he realized what everyone else probably already knew.
He could do better.
But Brody noticed.
When I started putting the distance between us, he saw it right away and he gave me hell for it.
“Margaret Brynn,” Brody’s voice filled my ears the second I’d walked out of the office.
There he was, sitting on the steps across the street, looking absolutely enraged at me.
Oh God, I’d thought, stomach sinking.
I’d been avoiding him. Ignoring his calls. I didn’t tell him why, because it sounded crazy even to my own ears.
I thought he’d just let me fade out, the way most people did. I thought he’d move on.
But here he was, storming across the street without a care in the world for traffic—even as they honked at him, rolling down their windows to shout obscenities at him.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“At work,” I pointed a thumb to the building behind me, suddenly feeling ashamed.
He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be treated like this. I didn’t know why I did it. But I always did. Over and over again.
Brody was just the first person to fight me on it.
“Not now.” He exhaled, almost in relief at finally seeing me in the flesh. “The last three days.”
“I’ve been busy,” I shifted awkwardly on my feet.
I didn’t like to lie to him, but what else could I say?
“I almost got fined a fuck-ton of money because I was about to get on a plane and fly back here to find you.”
He was going to skip a game for me? I thought, finding it oddly romantic.
“What stopped you?” I asked.
“Your brother told me you do this sometimes. When you need space.” He said, pain swirling in his big brown eyes. “But guess what? Three days is plenty of space, so I’m not leaving you alone any longer. You got it?”
Good. I didn’t want space. I never did.
I wanted him to care. I wanted to see if he missed me.
Then came the realization of how utterly screwed up I was.
I hadn’t been trying to ghost him. I’d only wanted to see if he cared. I had unknowingly tested him. Tested his loyalty. Tested the strength of his love.
And he had passed.
For now.
“I got it.” I nodded at him.
And he stared at me, blinking. As if he didn’t expect it to be so easy. As if he thought I would put up a fight.
But I didn’t want to. I just wanted to love him. And be loved by him back.
He was good at it.
In fact, I didn’t think there was anyone better at loving me than Brody Callahan.