Bennett — Age 23
Maven sat in the middle seat of my truck, but her hands were in her lap and she was restlessly playing with the gold rings on her fingers. She’d been like this since she’d arrived home for spring break yesterday.
I set my hand on her knee. “Are you going to tell me what’s the matter?”
She drew in a slow breath, then shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
My heart pounded in my chest, and my mouth grew dry. It was definitely something. “You can tell me.”
“I don’t want you to be mad.”
That wasn’t very promising. But I needed to know what she wasn’t saying, and I felt like it was going to require my full attention.
I noticed a small lane ahead and pulled onto it, parking my truck off to the side.
The silence in the truck felt heavy, and it took me every bit of strength I possessed simply to look over at Maven. “Talk to me.”
Her guilt-ridden gaze lifted to mine. “I applied to Juilliard for my masters.”
I stared at her. “In New York City?”
“I didn’t think I’d get in.”
“But you did,” I finished for her, my voice clipped. “And you want to go?”
Her bottom lip quivered. “I don’t know. I mean, of course I want to go. I’d be crazy not to.” Her hand settled on my arm. “But I also want to be with you.”
I put my hands back on the steering wheel, letting my mind wrap around what it was she was saying.
I knew Juilliard was one of the most prestigious music schools in the country and this was a huge opportunity for Maven, but we’d made plans.
I’d waited almost four years for her already. “Why didn’t you tell me you applied?”
“Like I said, I didn’t think I’d get in.”
“So what?” In my frustration, I banged the palms of my hands against the steering wheel, making Maven startle. “You still tell me those kinds of things! I need to know if you’re planning a whole different path for your life than the one we’ve been discussing for years.”
“I’m not planning a different path, Ben.”
“Just a major detour? Just another two years for me to wait?”
She crossed her arms and gave a small huff. “I didn’t force you to wait for me.”
I stilled, anger blackening the edges of my vision. “I’m going to walk home.” I threw open the door. “You can drive my truck. I’ll come get it later.”
Maven grabbed my arm, pausing me. “Ben, we’re still fifteen miles from Autumn Ridge. You can’t walk home.”
I pulled my arm from her grasp, but before I closed the door, she put herself in the way of it. “I’m sorry,” she said, taking hold of me. “I should have told you. If you don’t want me to do it, I won’t. I can write them tonight and decline the offer.”
“Maven, if you want to go to New York, go. I won’t be the one stopping you from living your dreams.” I grabbed her hands and slid them off me. “Or forcing you into a dream you don’t want anymore.”
“But I want this.” There was desperation in her voice. “Please, Ben. Get back in the truck.”
I took a backward step. “I’ll talk to you later. I need to think.”
I wasn’t five miles into my trek back to Autumn Ridge when Dominic pulled his old Ford pickup next to me, his window down. “You look like you could use a ride.”
“I’m fine,” I muttered.
“That’s not what Maven told me.”
I looked over at him, then shook my head.
Instead of attempting to convince me, Dom just turned his hazards on and followed along with me at a snail’s pace. Several cars passed him, one blaring their horn as it did so. He just kept pacing me.
“You’re going to cause a wreck,” I said.
“Me? You’re the one walking along the side of the highway at dusk.”
I heaved a breath and stopped.
Dom stopped too.
“Fine.” I opened the door and climbed in. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Good. Neither do I.”
Since Dom was one of the few guys around my age who had remained in Autumn Ridge, he and I had become good friends.
Which made sense considering our interests and our similar career paths—we both made a living with our hands.
But I most appreciated that Dom wasn’t much of a talker.
Which suited me just fine. Especially tonight.
“Where do you want me to drop you off?” he asked when we approached Autumn Ridge’s covered bridge leading to Main Street.
“My house.” I’d figure out how to get my truck tomorrow.
He nodded.
When we pulled onto Maple, my chest tightened. There, in my driveway, was my truck. I let out a breath and rested my head back against the headrest.
Dom glanced at me, releasing his foot off the gas. “Want me to take you somewhere else?”
“No. It’s fine.” For all the time I’d spent walking, I still had no idea how to feel.
Or what to say to Maven. But I was now confident that wasn’t going to change until we spoke again.
He pulled up in front of my house. “Thanks for the ride.” The words felt trivial, but with the way Dom placed a hand on my shoulder, I knew he understood how grateful I was.
“Good luck, man.”
When I started up the paved path to the front porch, Maven stood from my porch chair and hurried toward me, wrapping her arms around me. Instantly, my defenses started to crumble.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, burying her face in my chest. She gave a shuddered breath. “Can we just pretend this never happened?”
I took her face in my hands, her tears wetting my fingers, and tilted her chin upward until our gazes met.
Her eyes were swollen and her face was red and splotchy.
In all our years together, I’d only seen Maven cry a handful of times, and even then, it had only ever comprised a few tears.
The sight of her so completely distraught nearly broke me. “I’m sorry I got so upset.”
“You have every right to be upset. I should have told you. I was just scared that…” Her voice quivered.
“That this would happen. But honestly, I only applied to Juilliard to see if I could get in. It was some stupid, self-appointed test of validation—a curiosity to see if I was good enough. It wasn’t until my acceptance came that I thought about what it might be like to actually go… ”
Tears were flowing down her cheeks again, and I brushed them away with my thumbs, then pulled her into an embrace.
“I love you, Ben,” she said, sniffling. “I choose you.”
But at what cost? Maven had gotten into Juilliard. I couldn’t keep her from that. I wouldn’t. “I think you should accept the offer.”
She pulled back, her face searching mine in desperation. “No. Not if that means I have to give you up.”
I swallowed, fighting the knot forming in my chest. “We’ve already made it through four years. What’s another two?”