24. Mav
I spot Allegra from the corner of my eye.
“My friend is here.” I flip my chin toward A before glancing at the therapist.
Dr. Johnson lifts an eyebrow.
“So you’re seeing your friends this week?”
I narrow my eyes.
“I never stopped seeing my friends.”
“Just Mckenna, then,” Dr. Johnson presses.
I sigh and hang my head back.
“I can’t handle seeing the regret, the pain, in her eyes. Not yet,” I say.
“I’m not ready to confront her.”
“Are you sure?” Dr. Johnson asks.
“You’ve made remarkable progress, Maverick.”
I straighten and meet his eyes.
Dr. Johnson and I are meeting in a more casual space today.
A conference area with glass panels instead of his stuffy office.
Today, I’m drinking a mug of mint tea.
Today, I’ve marked off twelve days in the rehab’s detox program and have nearly completed my fourteen-day stay.
“It hasn’t even been two weeks.”
“Still, your start to recovery is solid. I can tell you want this.”
“I do.”
“And Mckenna?”
I shake my head.
“She’s better off without me, Doc. We all know it.”
“Do we?” He tilts his head.
“I know it.”
“Does she?”
God, I fucking hate therapy sometimes.
“I imagine so since I’ve refused to see her.”
Dr. Johnson writes something in his notebook.
I can’t imagine what.
Is he even taking notes or doodling in the margins the way I do when the words don’t come.
When the lyrics don’t make any goddamn sense.
“If it’s all right, I’d like to catch Allegra before she leaves. I’d like to talk with her,” I murmur.
Dr. Johnson nods. “If that’s what you feel is best, Maverick. Our time is up anyway.”
“Thanks, Doc. See you tomorrow.” I stand and don’t bother giving him another glance as I slip out of the conference room.
Allegra stands by the reception desk, looking worried.
Her hair is pulled up into a high bun, there are bags under her eyes, and she’s chewing her bottom lip raw.
“Hey, A,” I say, moving toward her.
She looks up and relief flickers through her irises.
“Mav. Hi.”
“I didn’t know you were coming.” I can’t hide the surprise from my tone.
While my brother, Levi, and Reign have popped by a few times, I haven’t seen Allegra yet.
“Excuse me, Maverick,” a staff member, Marilyn, interrupts, giving me a knowing look.
Fucking rehab rules.
“Hey, Marilyn,” I manage.
“Do you mind if Allegra and I have a chat in the visitation lounge?”
Marilyn smiles as if I’ve earned a sticker or a house point or some shit.
“Absolutely,” she says cheerfully.
“I’ll show you the way.”
Allegra rolls her lips together, trying not to laugh, as we follow Marilyn toward the visitation lounge.
It’s a supervised space with an approved list of snacks and beverages.
“You want a tea? Coffee?” I ask when we enter.
Allegra nods. “A coffee would be great.”
I gesture toward a table where she takes a seat while I head to the coffee bar to fix her a cup.
When I sit down across from her, she smiles tentatively.
“How are you, Mav?”
“I’m doing okay. The past two weeks have been kind of hellish but I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.”
“Good. I’m proud of you. I know this isn’t easy.” She gestures around the rehab facility.
It’s a setting she knows well, having gone through this with her brother, Levi.
I take a sip of my tea and lean back in my chair.
“How is she?” I hate that I can’t stop myself from asking but I need to know.
How is my angel?
“She’s okay,” Allegra says.
I give her a look, arching an eyebrow.
Allegra sighs. “She’s struggling. She’s…missing you.”
I snort.
“She’s better off without me.”
“She doesn’t feel that way, Mav.”
“Really? Because I almost died, and she feels guilty? Or because she truly doesn’t feel that way, A? If I didn’t go off the fucking rails, do you think she’d be worrying about me the way she is?”
“That’s not fair,” Allegra says, two patches of pink dotting her cheeks.
“I know. But I also know, she is better off without me. Whether she believes it now or not. I meddled when she asked me not to. I pushed too hard when she asked for space. I didn’t respect her wishes, and I crossed a fucking line.”
“Bran is back in Texas,” Allegra replies.
“What?” I lean forward.
A nods. “Whatever information you shared with Mr. Byrne helped. Bran withdrew from BU and is back in Houston with his family.”
I narrow my eyes.
“How’s Mckenna taking it?”
“Honestly? I think she’s more torn up about you than she is thinking about Bran.”
I scoff.
“You don’t have to spare my feelings, A.”
“That’s the last thing I’m doing, Mav. I’m trying to spare Kenny’s.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on.
“Listen, Mckenna was always out of my league. We started off as roommates for fuck’s sake. Then, I caused a massive scandal, and she agreed to fake date me. We got married, a night she hardly remembers, in Vegas. Please, stop me whenever this sounds like the foundation of a happy marriage.”
“You love her,” Allegra reminds me.
“Yeah, I do,” I agree.
“But Mckenna was right. Sometimes, love isn’t enough.”
Allegra shakes her head.
“I wish you could see yourself the way the rest of us do.”
“I’m sure I see myself exactly how everyone else does. I fuck things up.”
“You make everything better,” Allegra refutes.
“You’ve made Mckenna’s life better. You helped her, saw the truth, protected her, when no one else did, Maverick.”
“Yeah? And she broke up with me because of it.”
“She was scared. She was…running.”
I arch an eyebrow.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to run,” Allegra whispers, horror shading her eyes.
I swear softly. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, A. I just, let me get through detox first.” But as soon as I say the words, I know I’m not being truthful.
Because I am going to run.
It’s what I do best. It’s the outcome that Big Jim always predicted for me.
I’m not cut out for marriage and happily-ever-afters.
I’m a goddamn rockstar with a chip on my shoulder and a trail of fuckups in my wake.
I was delusional in thinking I could marry a woman as good and pure as Mckenna Byrne and keep her forever.
That was my biggest mistake.
Believing that I could be different.
That I could be enough.
“I’m rooting for you, Mav,” Allegra says truthfully, finishing her coffee.
“I appreciate your coming. It means a lot, A.”
We both stand and I pull one of my truest friends into a big hug.
“See you in two days?” Allegra whispers.
“See you soon.”
Allegra lifts her hand in farewell, and I watch as she leaves the visitation room.
When I turn away from the table, Marilyn beams at me.
“That looked like it went really well, Maverick. Proud of you.”
I heave out a breath.
“Thanks, Marilyn.”
But I guess it did go well.
It was a step in the right direction.
Now I just have to get through the next two days, make things square with Mckenna, and figure out my next move.
Sweat pours down the center of my back as I rack the bar and sit up.
“Nice set,” my brother says.
“Thanks,” I mutter, taking a swig of water.
It’s been a long time since I hit the gym.
Even longer since I worked out with my bandmates.
“How’re you feeling?” Jameson asks.
I sit on the bench and crack my neck.
“My head’s clearer.”
“That’s good.”
“You talk to Kenny yet?” Reign asks.
“We’re talking tomorrow,” I confirm.
“You should go home and be with her,” Levi advises.
“She’s living in the brownstone for you.”
“Yeah.” I glance at my brother who avoids my gaze.
“I’m fine crashing at Jameson’s for the time being.”
“I’m sure Amelia fucking loves that,” Levi snorts.
I grin. “Most days, she likes me more than Jameson.”
My brother flips me the middle finger and we all chuckle.
“How long has it been since you and Kenny talked?” Reign asks.
“Almost a month,” I reply, my throat scratchy.
For the past two weeks, since I’ve left rehab, I’ve been making healthy habits.
I’m meeting with Dr. Johnson twice a week.
I made appointments with a trainer and a nutritionist. I started writing music again.
Spending time with my bandmates, my brother, and making amends for the pain I’ve caused.
Slowly, I’ve begun the process of healing.
And I’ve realized that Mckenna was right.
Sometimes, we need to take steps on our own to be whole before we can be half of a partnership.
I’m nowhere near enough for her right now.
And I refuse to keep stringing her along or fucking up her life because I love her too much to do right by her.
I vowed to protect my wife at all costs.
And I will continue to do that, even if I’m protecting her from myself.
“Her father got rid of that piece of shit, Bran,” Reign says.
“I heard,” I mutter.
It still doesn’t sit right with me.
How did Mckenna’s father make Bran disappear?
What was the key piece of information that I handed him?
And why does he think Bran won’t resurface in Boston?
“He’s back in Texas,” Reign says, jabbing the bag.
“Not exactly paying for his sins, but at least not on the same campus as Kenny.”
“Yeah,” I murmur.
“How did Mckenna take it?” I ask, wondering if his response will be different than Allegra’s.
“I think she’s relieved,” Reign replies.
“She’s caught up on other things now,” Levi tosses out, giving me a knowing look.
So, Allegra was right.
I nod, not wanting to get into this conversation.
Tuning him out, I position my headphones over my ears and begin another set.
Tomorrow, I’ll face my wife and say my piece.
Tomorrow, I’ll make my final amends.
After four weeks of avoiding her, I head to the brownstone.
Standing on the porch, I look out over the yard.
I recall the snowball fight Mckenna and I had over Christmas week.
I kissed her right there, in that space, and felt like my snow angel came to life.
Shaking my head at my wayward thoughts, I ring the bell.
In my other hand, I grip the coffee tray and pastry bag from Java House.
Under my arm, a folder with papers is tucked.
By the time Mckenna pulls open the door, nerves are ping-ponging throughout my body, and I feel nauseous.
Still, I know I’m doing the right thing.
The only thing.
She frowns when she sees me.
“Mav, you have a key. This is your home.”
I shrug and step inside.
As I lean in to kiss her cheek, I close my eyes and pull in a breath.
Her citrus scent tickles my nose, and I relish the memories associated with it.
When I pull back, I note the nervousness in Mckenna’s eyes and my stomach twists.
She’s on edge and I don’t blame her.
It’s been weeks and still, I want her.
But I can’t have her.
I don’t deserve her.
Not like this.
“I brought pastries,” I say, following her into the kitchen.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, moving to pull out plates and cutlery.
She places them down on the butcher block island but neither of us moves to take a sweet treat.
Instead, we study each other.
“How are you?” Mckenna asks tentatively.
“I’m okay,” I say truthfully.
“I… It’s been a month.”
“Yeah.”
“How about you?” I ask, hating how awkward our exchange feels.
Mckenna and I used to talk about everything and nothing and it felt comfortable.
Natural and effortless.
“Hanging in there,” she offers.
But I notice that she’s lost weight and her clothes hang off her frame.
My jaw tightens as I note the bags under her eyes.
The way she keeps her arms wrapped around her stomach, as if she’s holding herself together.
I make her nervous. I keep her on edge.
I hate that my presence fills her with anything but joy.
But I also know that I’m not the right version of myself to love her the way she deserves to be loved.
Not now.
I slide onto a barstool.
Mckenna stands beside the island.
“Latte?” I offer, holding it out to her.
She takes it, and our fingers brush.
Her eyes widen, and my heart stutters.
“Fuck, Mckenna, I miss you,” I admit, my tone cracking.
“I miss you so goddamn much, sweetheart.”
“I miss you too, Maverick,” she sighs.
A flicker of hope dances in her eyes.
“Are you moving back home? Please tell me that’s why you’re here. I’ve been waiting for you. I’m here for you.”
My heart fucking breaks.
I know I’m going to flip her world upside down, but I also know that it’s the best I can offer right now.
“I… Mckenna, you were right. Things between us moved at breakneck speed. We’ve been through so much in such a short amount of time.”
Mckenna nods, taking a tentative sip of her latte.
“We did,” she agrees, slipping onto the stool across from mine.
“But I know you, Mav. Deep down, I know the man you are, and I trust you. I love you. We have everything that matters.”
Fuck.
This is going to kill me.
“Come home, Mav. Please. We can fix this,” she pleads.
My fingers tremble as my chest physically aches.
I stare at my beauty’s face and try to memorize the details.
The flecks of gray in her navy eyes, the perfect rosebud shape of her lips.
Understanding washes over her expression in degrees.
It’s heartbreaking to behold.
Confusion, uncertainty, disbelief, heartbreak.
“I’m in therapy,” I admit.
“I’m getting help. But I have a long way to go.” I untuck the folder from below my arm and place it in the center of the island.
“Turns out, you were right about everything, Mckenna. It’s hard to be half of a team when you’re not whole. And I’m not whole, baby. I don’t think I have been for a long time. Maybe not ever.”
“That’s not true,” she refutes, her eyes darting from the envelope to my face and back again.
Panic blazes over her expression.
“With me you were. We were?—”
“I hurt you, Mckenna.”
“I hurt you back,” she rationalizes.
I smile softly, waiting for her to hear the absurdity of our exchange.
“I don’t want a marriage where we keep doing that to each other.”
Mckenna swipes her tongue over her bottom lip, the movement nervous.
“Please, Mav, don’t do this to me. To us.”
“You deserve more, better, than me.”
She shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes.
“But I want you. I love you.”
“I love you too, baby. That’s why I have to do this.” I flip open the envelope.
“I have to let you go so we can both be whole. Healed.”
She stares at the crisp white papers.
My fingers skirt the edge of it, keeping the envelope flap open.
My heartbeat roars in my ears, my pulse beating rapidly in my neck.
Pain coils low in my gut, lashing against the walls of my stomach.
The black ink is bold and stark against the top page.
Petition for divorce.
Dissolution of marriage.
Divorce agreement.
Mckenna’s eyes fly to mine, and I read the hurt in them.
She bends slightly at the waist, as if the wind has been knocked out of her.
Her elbows hit the top of the island and she looks down at the papers in horror.
Christ, this hurts .
I rub at my chest, right above my heart.
“You want a divorce?” Her tone is hushed.
Disbelieving.
“Yes,” I manage to say.
“There’s an extra million in the settlement since I’m ending this before the six months.”
I stare at her, waiting until she meets my eyes.
She looks gutted. Stricken.
But then, that confidence flares to life and resignation washes over her expression.
Her navy eyes harden, and she lifts her chin, daring me.
Challenging me.
Fight for me , she begs silently.
I am , I reply through my eyes, nudging the papers closer.
“I don’t care about the money. You’re doing that for yourself,” she accuses.
“I know.” She’s right.
“This is really what you want? This is what you ask of me?” she whispers.
“Yes.”
She fumbles for a pen.
Uncaps it.
I pull in a sharp inhale, and it pierces my chest as painfully as a knife.
My stomach twists, and my legs fall slack.
I slam my feet into the floor to ground myself as my body becomes weightless.
I watch as Mckenna presses the tip of the pen hard against the paper, scrawling her name in bold, angry lines.
“I’ll always love you, Maverick,” she says as she finishes her signature.
I love you enough to let you go.
To free yourself from me.
I don’t voice the thoughts.
What’s the point?
Dropping the pen, Mckenna stuffs the pages back in the envelope and slides it across the island.
“I’ll never stop.”
“Me neither,” I rasp out.
“Thank you, Mckenna, for all the gifts you’ve given me.”
Tears stream down her face and she bites her fist on a silent sob.
I can’t bear to be in this house a moment longer.
Standing on shaky legs, I walk out of the kitchen, out of the brownstone.
I walk right out of Mckenna Byrne’s life.
And I don’t look back.
Thank you so much for reading!
I am so grateful for your support!
Mav and Mckenna are two characters close to my heart and their journey has been gut-wrenching.