Chapter 20 Shane
Shane
It’s been five weeks since Maya ended things between us.
Four weeks since the fire.
I hadn’t slept since then. I’d lie there staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment she closed the door.
The look on her face. The way she flinched when I reached for her.
She thought I was just like everyone else who’d failed her. Another man who'd let her down.
I couldn’t fix that. I couldn’t force her to trust me. Couldn’t undo the damage that the photo and the article had done.
But I could tell her the truth.
Not to change her mind. Maybe nothing would change her mind. But she'd spent her whole life believing people who cared for her could just leave.
I wasn't going to be another name on that list.
She deserved to know the truth about that night.
She deserved to know that I'd told Natalie I was with someone.
That I'd meant it. That I'd walked away from a woman who was offering exactly what the old Shane would have taken, but also that old Shane didn't exist anymore. Not since she walked into my life.
That she was worth the effort.
Worth showing up for, even when she made it clear she didn’t want me to. That she was worth one more knock on a door that might not open.
If she heard all that and still wanted me gone, I'd go. I'd respect her choice.
But I wasn’t going to let her spend the rest of her life believing no one ever came back.
The drive felt longer than usual. Queens in the early evening, streetlights starting to flicker on, the city doing what it always did.
I didn’t rehearse what I was going to say. Every time I tried, the words came out wrong—too polished, too much like a speech.
I'd just tell her the truth. Whatever came out, however it sounded.
I parked not too far away from her building and sat there for a minute with my hands on the wheel.
This might be the last time. The last time I walked through that lobby, rode that elevator, and stood outside that door. If she told me to go, I had to mean it. Had to let her move on without me hovering in the margins of her life.
I got out of the truck.
The lobby was quiet. The elevator was slow. I watched the numbers climb and thought about the first time I'd made this trip. Chinese food in hand, telling myself I was just checking on her. Knowing even then that I was lying.
Third floor. The hallway stretched out ahead of me, with the same ugly carpet and the same flickering light near the stairwell.
Her door.
I knocked before I could talk myself out of it.
I heard footsteps inside. Then silence. She was looking through the peephole. I could feel it.
I didn't try to look calm or confident or any of the things I usually performed without thinking. I just stood there. Let her see whatever she saw.
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Maya stood there in a dress I'd never seen beforeLight blue. Simple. The kind of thing she might wear to a nice dinner. Her hair was down, brushed smooth. She was even wearing earrings.
She looked beautiful.
But my stomach dropped when the realization hit me.
She had plans. She was going somewhere. With someone else.
I'd picked the wrong night. She'd moved on already, found some guy who hadn't screwed everything up, and I was standing here like an idiot about to pour my heart out while she had a date waiting.
"I'm sorry," I said, stepping back. "I didn't realize you were heading out. I can come back another—"
"Shane." She caught my arm. "I'm not—" She stopped. Took a breath. "I was coming to see you."
I stared at her. "What?"
She looked down at the floor, as if trying to find the words there.
"I've been standing in this apartment for an hour trying to figure out what to say." A small, embarrassed laugh escaped her. "I got dressed. Did my hair. And then I just... couldn't make myself walk out the door."
I didn't know what to do with that.
She’d been coming to me.
While I sat in my truck, convincing myself to try one last time, she’d been here—putting on a dress, working up the courage to do the same thing.
"Can I come in?" I asked.
She stepped aside.
The apartment looked the same. Zoe's shoes were by the door. A stack of papers on the coffee table, red pen beside it. Evidence of the life I'd missed for five weeks.
On the bookshelf, in a small vase, dead flowers. Brown petals, wilted stems, leaves curled in on themselves.
The daisies I had given her were still there.
Just like Zoe had said.
She had kept them.
Maya followed my gaze. Her cheeks flushed.
"I couldn't throw them away," she said quietly. "I tried. I stood over the trash can with them in my hand and I just... couldn't."
Something cracked open in my chest.
"Maya—"
"Let me go first." She held up a hand. "Please. I've been practicing this for days, and if I don't say it now, I never will."
I nodded. Stayed where I was, near the door.
She took a breath. Squared her shoulders like she was bracing for something.
"I saw that photo, and I panicked. I didn't ask questions.
Didn't let you explain. I just assumed the worst because that's what I do.
That's what I've always done." She shook her head.
"It was easier to believe you'd betray me than to believe you wouldn't. Because if you were like everyone else, then at least I'd be right. At least I'd have seen it coming."
"You were protecting yourself."
“I was being a coward.” Her voice was sharp—angry at herself, not me. "You never gave me a single reason not to trust you. You showed up every time, exactly like you said you would. And the first chance I got, I threw it in your face."
"Maya—"
"Brian came to see me."
I stopped. "He what?"
"A few days ago. At school." She almost smiled. "He sat in one of my student desks. He looked ridiculous. He told me about Natalie. About how you shut her down in ten seconds. About how you told her you were with someone." She paused. "Serious."
I was going to buy Brian a beer. Several beers.
"He told me about how you deleted your social media accounts," she continued. "And the calendar. That you asked Captain Rodriguez to take you off it. Permanently.."
"I didn’t ask him to talk to you about any of it."
Maya looked up at me.
"I wanted to be the one to tell you," I said. "All of it. I came here tonight because you deserved to hear it from me."
She stayed quiet. Listening.
"That photo was nothing. Ten seconds of a woman who couldn't take no for an answer.
Her name's Natalie. We hooked up once, almost a year ago. She’s been trying to get my attention ever since.
I ignored her." I held Maya's gaze. "That night at the bar, she came up to me while I was getting drinks.
Put her hands on me before I could react.
I told her I was with someone. That it was serious. And I meant it."
Maya's eyes were bright. She didn't look away.
"I should have told you about her before," I continued. "That she'd been texting, that she showed up at the bar, that she was someone from my past who couldn't take a hint. I didn't think it mattered because she didn't matter. But I should have told you anyway. I'm sorry."
She nodded. Listening.
"The social media, the calendar, I didn't do any of that just to win you back.
" I paused, searching for the right words.
"I did it because I wanted to be someone who deserved you.
You're not the kind of woman who ends up with a guy who posts shirtless photos for strangers to comment on.
You're not the kind of woman who should have to wonder if her boyfriend's DMs are full of other women.
You deserve better than that. I wanted to be better than that. "
I took a step closer.
"I was tired of being that guy. The one who collected attention because it was easier than being alone.
The one who let women see exactly what they expected and nothing more.
" I shook my head. "You made me want to be someone real.
Someone worth staying for. So I deleted the accounts.
Asked Rodriguez to take me off the calendar.
Because I didn't want to be him anymore. "
A tear slipped down her cheek. I reached up, brushed it away with my thumb, and let my hand stay there, cupping her face.
"I love you," I said. The words came out simpler than I expected. "I love you, and I needed you to know. I'm not asking for anything back. I'm not trying to change your mind. I needed to tell you because you deserve to hear it."
Her chin trembled against my palm.
"You spent your whole life with people who left without explaining," I said quietly.
"Who disappeared and let you fill in the blanks with your worst fears. I didn’t want to be another name on that list. Even if you never wanted to see me again, I needed you to know the truth.
I needed you to know that someone thought you were worth fighting for. "
"I knew everything you just said,” she whispered. “I’ve known for days, and I still couldn't make myself come to you because I was terrified.” Her voice broke. “What if you’ve moved on? What if you don’t want me anymore? What if I broke something that can't be fixed?"
"Maya—"
She reached up and cupped my face, mirroring me. Her palm was warm against my jaw.
"I told myself tonight was the night I'd finally go to you. And then you knocked." Her voice cracked. "You came back. After everything I did. After I slammed the door in your face and blocked your number and refused to see you. You still came back."
"I'll always come back."
I brushed the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs and tucked a loose strand behind her ear. She looked up at me with those brown eyes, and for the first time since I'd met her, the walls were gone. All the way down.
"I love you," I said again. "I loved you when you slammed the door in my face. I loved you when you wouldn't look at me in that parking lot. I'm going to love you when you're difficult and scared and convinced you're not worth staying for. Because you are, Maya. You always have been."