55. Hard Launch
Hard Launch
MARY
“This place is madness,” Barry said.
His wife shook her head. “I didn’t know anyone cared about UniVox. The Brits don’t.”
I chuckled. “No, but Scandinavians take it very seriously. Everyone in the Nordics does.”
“I sorta think it has to do with the cute host finding love with one of the front runners.” Bea teased in a way that made me want to die.
“Can we just keep this… cool?” I asked.
It wasn’t though. I felt like a girl attending her first school dance at forty-three.
The people lining the street wanted a show—whether that be from their favorite musical act or from the bizarre royal-popstar combo that was all over the pages.
But was that bad? I worked my entire life for a moment like this.
I would sing my heart out about taking back my power—introduced by the girl I couldn’t quit. Even I couldn’t be lowkey now.
“You never let us have fun,” Alicia said. “We have earned it, little Viking.”
She was right.
I acquiesced. “You’re right, I’m being a buzzkill. We’ve all waited our lives for something like this.”
My phone buzzed in my palms. I broke my own rules about keeping it on during public appearances because I wanted Betty to reach me if she needed. I expected to see a message from Betty. It was Ali.
ALIA
My parents and I are watching the whole thing. Break a leg! You will do amazing!
I smiled. Her words meant more than she knew. Somehow, being the grownup I needed back then was healing part of me I didn’t know I could.
ME
Thanks, kid. Someday, it will be all about you. I appreciate the encouragement, though.
Ali’s parents had been easy. They’d been as concerned about her as I had.
Like mine, they listened to Max because he said it was the only way she’d be successful.
But, unlike me, Alia was brave enough to run at the first major sign of trouble and trust that her parents would take care of her.
I’d rested easier knowing she was again safe and back home in Malmo.
When we stepped on the carpet, things lit up.
Alicia and Clarice mooned for photos, but I stayed back.
This was altogether too much. It brought up only bad memories.
I looked around, worried that somehow I’d see the person who most wanted revenge.
I remembered the years where I did anything in these situations to please him.
Walk taller. Suck in your gut. Smile more.
The crowd erupted and photographers shouted for me to pose.
I fought the urge to ditch my high heels and run into the hall.
I reminded myself of that girl watching at home.
She needed to know she could come back and stand tall.
So, I stayed. I gave myself a few beats to collect myself and let the band process before me. I was safe. Betty would be here soon.
The crowd bellowed and I braced. A person approached, taking their spot on the carpet by me.
I saw Betty in a teal dress. She sparkled like the sun.
It took every ounce of self-control not to kiss her.
The cameras and screaming well-wishers faded into the background. She arrived just in time to lift me.
“Hey,” I shouted over everyone. “You made it.”
“I did,” Betty smiled. “You look really pretty.”
“I definitely think you’ve outshone me.”
“Tonight? Hell no,” Betty laughed.
“Can I walk with you?”
“Am I allowed to tell you no?” I joked.
“You can tell me anything you want,” Betty took my hand.
I squeezed her hand, feeling every ounce of pride that she had simply drifted in and chosen me.
It wasn’t about showing off. It was about showing up the way she had for me when I needed, the way she did for her family, the way she did for my dad, and the way she did to accept me with all my imperfections.
Even being her larger-than-life royal self, Betty let me shine.
Tears welled as we walked.
“Mary, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I laughed a bit nervously. “I think so? But, Bets… we’re exactly where I thought we’d never be.”
Betty stopped us, her gaze fixed. “I’m here for you. I will always be here for you. Okay?”
I nodded, knowing she meant every word. She sensed my nerves, but remained calm.
“You can do this,” Betty said. “All of it.”
“Okay.” I stepped forward.
Betty took my hand in both of hers and strode forward. It was the sort of act I loathed when seeing others do it. Now, I adored that I was hers and she was mine.
“Seriously, are you okay?” Betty asked.
“Yes. I just realized that I want to get this over with and then do all the mushy things with you.”
“Mushy?”
“Cute. Annoying. But we’re not going to sit on the same side of the table when we go out,” I said. “That is a bridge too far.”
“Agreed. That’s so cringe. But you’re right. I want to do all the couple-y things with you,” Betty said. “I’ve never had that with anyone. I swore I never wanted it, but I do with you. Even if it breaks the Internet.”
It hit me this was new for her. Neither of us had declared our love for anyone with our full chest. We had our reasons to avoid that. But now? I couldn’t hold back. I wanted all of it even if it meant breaking the Internet.
I couldn’t have felt closer to her if I tried.