Chapter Thirty Seven
Maeve
Pity party for one, hosted in the back garden’s treehouse. Sure as hell didn’t have that on tonight's agenda.
Not really sure what possessed me to climb up here, but it felt right seeing it from the bedroom window, lit up by moonlight like it was in the spotlight. Took that as a sign to move from the bedroom to here. Hoping that the night breeze does something to soothe me, like it has a way of doing.
And it’s not like balance is my forte at the best of times, so why on God's earth did I think I was capable of climbing a tree one-handedly baffles me. Now I’ve got a nice angry red mark across my hand where the coffee spilt over.
The lingering sting actually feels good as I press my thumb on it, adding to the sensation.
The sharpness grounds me, pulling me back into my body away from the mess that’s in my head.
It’s a familiar feeling, taking me back to when the only thing that would pull me out of dissociation was some sort of self-inflicted pain.
I try not to judge myself for it even now; I was just a child locked in a room most nights, not feeling safe in the one place I was supposed to.
That was out of my control, but my body.
That I could control, so I learnt to use it even in the most maladaptive ways, just so I could take myself away from everything and focus on the physical hurt.
It’s been years, though, since I’ve relapsed into old habits. I’ve been trying to be kinder to myself, allow myself time to feel emotions, as it tends to be the only way to get through it. But after yesterday… I feel lost. Out of control. And I have no one else to blame but myself.
I’ve fucked up massively. Thought telling Colt I didn’t have feelings for him would stop his feelings for me; stupid of me to assume feelings work on logic, especially when my own definitely don’t.
But now he’s hurt, because of me. Didn’t even stop to talk to me earlier, just got in his car and sped away.
I get that though; I also ran away last night when things came crashing down. Going from an absolute high, trying to comfort Wade, only to end up hurting the other man I care about. The boy who has become my best friend throughout this whole experience.
A ranch hand gave me a lift back, no questions asked. My phone was absolutely popping off with missed calls and messages. I just switched it off and went to bed. Not that I slept.
I heard everyone arrive in front of the main house at God knows what hour, saying their goodbyes and heading to their own places.
But not Wade. No, he slipped into my room to check on me.
I stayed still, eyes shut, pretending I was asleep.
Not wanting to face the inevitable conversation I know we need to have.
I felt every movement, the way he sat on the edge of the bed, the brush of my hair, and the soft kisses pressed on my forehead. Followed by a quiet murmur, “Night, angel” before leaving the room.
I cried as soon as he left the room, and don’t think I’ve stopped since.
Erghhhh. I rub my hand over my face.
Wildbrook Hollow’s just shadows at night, but I know every inch of it now. Committed it all to memory, not wanting to forget any detail of the place I’ve come to love. The place I have never felt safer in.
And yet, I’ve got to leave next month. Go back to London like this isn’t the closest I’ve ever come to what I’ve been searching for all these years. Just… carry on as normal, book the next trip and pretend anything’s going to come close to this.
It won’t.
Because Wildbrook Hollow doesn't feel like home because of the place. It feels like home because of the people.
Colt. Mrs. Mae. Naomi. Even Bryan.
And Wade…
This arrangement we have, to give into each other until I leave, is stupid. I don’t know how we thought we’d come out of this unscathed. I am sitting in a goddamn treehouse, crying over a relationship with an expiry date and feelings I was naive to think wouldn’t come.
I used to think people who followed their heart over their head were idiots. And now, look at me. Sat in a tree house in the dark, legs dangling, trying to work out when exactly I became one of those people.
As much as my heart is in the driving seat, my head is fighting for the steering wheel, especially after last night's events. Telling me all the reasons why none of this is viable long-term. There is absolutely no version where this doesn't blow up if I stay. And the person who’d get hurt isn’t me or Wade.
It would be Colt. It would be breaking everything they have only just begun to rebuild between them.
A family home I would destroy all over again just as they are patching it back together.
All when the whole point of me confronting Wade in the first place, weeks ago, was for Colt.
I went there trying to get answers for Colt, only to leave with another secret being kept from him.
And now, I am sat with my guilt, my heart longing for a man I can’t have, and a friendship I have to say bye to.
All while knowing I got to go back to London and never return to the only place I have ever felt like I belong.
The tears come quietly. I can feel them tracking down my cheeks, and I don't bother wiping them. I deserve to feel shit, feel the pain, so I dig my thumb harder into the red mark.
The coffee goes cold in my hands, and the tears keep coming. I am totally zoned out, so much so that I don’t hear Colt pull himself up from the ladder beside me. It is only when his hand lands on my back, and he takes a look at me that I come back to reality.
Dissociation. My old friend. It’s been a while.
Colt settles himself beside me, feet dangling over the edge next to mine, close enough that our shoulders touch.
“You okay?” his voice is a whisper, like someone trying not to startle a scared creature.
“No,” I say. Because he has sat in front of me and fallen apart before, and he deserves the same honesty back. “Not really.”
He pulls me in for a hug without a second thought, and it breaks me more.
“I’m a shitty person, Colt.” It’s a raw statement, one that he needs to hear. I am not the person he has put on a pedestal.
He squeezes me in that friendly way that aims to act as a comfort, but for me, it’s not.
“I don’t believe that for one moment. You are the nicest person I know,” he responds so matter-of-factly.
I pull away, needing the space. Not deserving any of his kindness. “No, Colt, I’ve made some crappy decisions, ones that will hurt others, all because I didn’t want to deny myself something. All because I couldn’t say no despite knowing it would have been the right thing to do.”
“Did the decision make you happy?”
I blink, taken aback by the question, and just nod.
“Then, to me it sounds like you put yourself first, which you deserve to do, Maeve. If someone got hurt in the process, then yes, that’s shitty, but all you can do is apologise, and hope that they understand your reasons.”
He has absolutely no idea that it’s him who will get hurt; he’s sitting in the dark, unknowingly absolving me of the one crime I could never confess to him.
“I don’t deserve you as a friend, Colt.” I say so quiet that I am surprised it even reaches his ears. “You are a good person.”
He gives me a squeeze, “So are you. I never had much to look forward to till’ you came here.
Just catching your smile has been enough to carry me through the day.
” He unwraps me from his arms, looking me dead in the face.
“You’ve become important to me, Maeve. My best friend during a time where I felt like I had no one. ”
And there goes the guilt again. Sitting in my stomach, knotting itself and making me feel sick.
“Maeve, I mean it. You came here for your own reasons, meanwhile you’ve made my home actually feel like home again. You managed to get me and Dad to talk again, for crying out loud, that’s a feat in itself.”
“You both did that yourselves; I just nudged you both because you are stubborn asses”
“Well, it wouldn’t have happened without you.”
I smile. Fear that if I were to speak, I would spill everything. But he fills the space for me, his voice now shifted into something raw and careful.
“I’m sorry. For last night.” He keeps his eyes forward, out over the back garden. “The way I spoke to you, that was fucked. I was just hurt, I suppose.”
My body twists to him, grabbing onto his shoulder. He’s sorry, yet I am the one who should be; I just can’t tell him why.
“Colt—”
“Please Maeve, let me get this out.”
I sit back forward, looking down at my hand as I put pressure on the mark again.
“I went to therapy this morning.” His hand grabs mine, stopping me from doing the action.
“Turns out there’s a possibility that I have Borderline Personality Disorder…
and a part of that can lead to fixating on someone without really meaning to, kinda making them the centre of basically everything, including my own self-worth and mood.
Dr. Palmer said it’s called having a favourite person…
and I think I unintentionally made you mine. ”
I don’t say anything, just lean into him as to say, it’s ok, I am here. His body relaxes next to me as though he was expecting a worst reaction from me. But he deserves to understand himself, and more importantly, love himself.
“I, erm… feel relieved in a way. Like everything made so much sense as she was saying these things, so there ain’t no denying it. I guess I go for the assessment now to find out, but there’s things that can help me in the meantime. Help how I am with people because I can’t go on like this.”
“Colt.” I hold his gaze, placing my other hand on top of his.
“This is a good step. Honestly, understanding ourselves is so important. I had to do it. Fuck, if I am honest, I am still trying to understand myself. It was kinda the whole point of all my trips… But you are amazing, Colt, and don’t have to apologise for anything. ”
He nods slowly; I can see his brain working nineteen to the dozen, letting everything settle in before he takes a long breath.
“You could stay, you know?” he says. “Not for me or because I want you to, which I do, but not because of what I just said. I’ve come to terms with us being friends, I promise. But because you’re happy here.”
I am happy here. And I do want to stay. But I can’t, because whatever is between Wade and me only can happen if there’s an end date to it. Take that away, and it becomes something neither of us can actually have. Something that will fracture things that are only starting to mend.
“I can’t stay,” I say softly.
“I can’t imagine being here without you, Maeve,” he says eventually. “I will go back to having no one again.”
I nudge his shoulder gently. “That's not true. There are so many people here who love you, Colt. You just haven't let yourself see it.”
“Like who?” He scoffs. Genuinely baffled, like the idea is so foreign it doesn't quite compute.
“Naomi still cares for you.” He looks away.
“And that doesn't have to be romantic, but the care is there; anyone can see it.
And things are getting better with your dad, right?
That's not nothing, Colt.” I pause. “I know when I leave here, you are loved. I can feel it in my bones, like my Spidey senses are going off.”
He laughs suddenly, and then almost in the same breath his eyes fill, and he's crying again. Which sets me off all over again.
“Wow,” he manages. “We are a mess.”
“We are,” I agree. “But we've both been through a lot.
Neither of us ever really got to see what healthy love looks like up close.
So of course we're going to make mistakes, in romantic relationships, in friendships, in all of it.” I wipe my face with the back of my hand.
“We just have to be a little kinder to ourselves.”
Though the words come out of my mouth, I needed to hear them.
“When did you get so wise?” He says, still crying, a watery smile on his face.
“Recently,” I say. “Reluctantly.”
He laughs again, sniffles, then shakes his head.
“When I go,” I say, quieter now, meaning every word, “I am still your friend. That doesn't stop the second I get on the plane. So, we stay in contact, yeah? That's non-negotiable.”
“I'd like that,” he says.
I mean every word. And maybe that is selfish of me, wanting to keep him when I know I’ve done things that can only hurt him if he finds out.
But I can't lose both of them. I won't. Colt Carter is the first real friend I've had since Iris, and he has been through enough without me walking into his life and blowing it apart from the inside.
So, whatever this thing with Wade is, whatever it has been, it has to end.
Before it becomes something none of us can come back from.
Colt leans his shoulder back into mine, and we just sit until the night air becomes too cold to bear, saying nothing. And that is enough.