Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Maggie
“Maggie,” he said, kneeling before me.
Oh.
“Will you marry me?”
Oh no.
His eyes were so earnest, so hopeful.
Mine were wide and panicked.
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. I felt myself seizing up as I stared down at the love of my life offering me the thing every girl dreamed of.
But I had to think, because he was watching me, face deflating at the deafening silence.
“Maggie,” he pleaded.
I looked around for an exit, for a way to escape this situation. A way to hit pause on this moment.
“Maggie, say something.”
He was statue-still in the proposal stance, save for the slight tremble of his hand—the one offering me a life with him.
“Oh, I—” I faltered. “But why?”
“Why?” he asked, looking as if I’d burned him. “Because I love you, Mags. Because I thought you loved me—”
“I do.”
I did. More than anything. That would never change.
“—because when we talk about our life, we talk about being together forever.”
“We will be.” I emphasized, grabbing his hands as he rose to his feet.
“Then why does it feel like you’re rejecting me?” he asked. “That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?”
“No,” I shook my head. “I just don’t understand why anything has to change. I thought you were happy with the way things are.”
“It’s because I’m happy that I want us to move forward. I want us to have a life together.”
“What do we have now?” I asked, affronted.
We spent every day together. Most nights. He was the person I wanted to call before anyone else. The one I wanted beside me for all my big moments. I loved him, in every sense of the word.
But marriage? I couldn’t picture it. Not to anyone.
“What’s even happening right now?” He shook his head, as if in a daze. “I thought we were on the same page here.”
So had I.
“Brody, I love you. Isn’t that enough?”
“If you love me, why can’t you marry me, Mags?” His voice sounded agonized.
“I need time,” I scrambled for an excuse. “You can’t just spring this on me like this.”
“Time,” he muttered to himself, pulling himself to his feet with considerable effort. “More time than the past five years?”
“That’s not fair,” I shook my head. “We’ve been busy all this time. I’ve been working. Making a name for myself—”
“And now you have one. You’ve won every award you can possibly win. You’ve dedicated all of your twenties to being the best damn lawyer in Boston and you’ve done it—”
“And you’re upset about it?” I asked, knowing he wasn’t but feeling the ugly instinct rise up in me. The urge to fight. To deflect. To cause chaos instead of dealing with the problem in front of me.
I’d rather him be mad at me than see that look of devastation on his face. I couldn’t bear to see him sad. I’d rather have him hate me than watch his heart break.
“You know I’m not,” he countered. “I’m more proud of you than I’ve ever been of anything. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever known.”
“So, what’s the issue?”
“I don’t see why your career has to get in the way of us getting married. Do you think you can’t be successful and my wife at the same time?”
“Things would change.” I crossed my arms against my chest.
“No, they really wouldn’t. That’s the point. We already live together. We’re already committed to each other. All we’d be doing is making it permanent.”
“It’s just paperwork!” I countered.
“You love paperwork!” He matched my volume.
“And what about the kids?”
“What kids?”
“You want to get married and have kids, don’t you? You can’t honestly think that won’t change our lives.”
“Getting married doesn’t automatically put a baby in you, Mags,” he said adamantly. “It’s not just something that happens to you. You get to choose it, when you want it.”
“I can’t do this,” I said, grabbing my head as though it might implode. “It’s too much. I can’t think.”
Weddings. Changes. Promises.
I hated making promises. They made me feel boxed in and claustrophobic. The idea of never being able to change my mind. To take something back.
And people lied. They didn’t take marriage seriously. People got divorced after vowing to spend their whole life with someone.
I saw it every day. More than most people.
I saw what it did to families. What it did to my family.
How could I continue that cycle when I already knew I wasn’t stable enough to handle it?
Sure, I loved Brody. With all my heart, I did. And sure, maybe he thought he loved me too. But how long would it be before I messed up and he took off?
Being married would be like skating on thin ice for the rest of my life, never knowing when you might fall through. People left every day. There was no predicting why or when. There was no predicting the emptiness I’d feel if I had to experience that.
So I wouldn’t. I refused to. I couldn’t live my life in that fear. And I especially couldn’t put any hypothetical kids through that.
“Maggie,” he said again. “Say you’ll marry me. I know you’re scared, but we can do this. Together. I know we can. You have to trust me.”
I stared at him.
My beautiful boy who had the perfect family and the sunshine smile and the words to make anyone laugh at the tip of his tongue.
How could I saddle him with me? The girl who couldn’t even keep other families together, let alone one of her own making.
I didn’t trust myself. Not in relationships, especially not with kids.
My dad was right. I was like my mom. I tried to repress it and run from it, but when I felt—I felt everything.
My emotions would cloud my judgment. I’d get desperate. I would beg and cry and plead with him. I know I’d cause fights because of how much I loved him. How much I cared. I’d cause fights to test if he matched that enough to fight back.
It was wrong, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t lower myself to that, not when it wouldn’t make a lick of a difference if he ever actually decided to leave.
You couldn’t make people stay for you if they didn’t want to. And I wasn’t about to wait for the inevitable exit, fearing for that moment every day until it happened.
“I can’t,” I whispered, taking a step back as if putting distance between us would fix the hole in my chest that felt like it’d been clawed out.
Brody sucked in a sharp breath.
I didn’t know I was crying until I felt the wetness against my cheeks.
It hurt. Everything hurt. My heart. My chest. My stomach.
His face. God, I’d never forget it for as long as I lived.
Liam was right. I was a selfish bitch for causing Brody pain for the sake of protecting myself from my own.
That’s how I knew it was the right decision.
Brody was good and kind and perfect.
And me? I ruined things. Especially things that were good. I couldn’t help it. It was my nature.
And if I loved Brody, I needed to let him go. To get him as far away from me as he could, because I refused to be something he’d regret for the rest of his life.
Instead, I’d be something he lost.
I’d rather have him hate me than regret me.
So, when he handed me the keys to his car and told me to leave, I went.