Letting Go

by Molly McAdams

  Both girls laughed, but there was a part of me that was trying so hard to cling to the idea that Jagger and I could never be anything more than friends. As the last six weeks had come and gone, and the pain of being away from him had only grown, I’d fought with what I’d thought I’d known, and what I was slowly coming to terms with. That my family might have been right, that in the last two years my love for Jagger had grown from a love that could only be formed when you’d been friends as long as we had, to something so much more. And it had changed without my ever realizing it.

  They say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. Whether Jagger was gone or not would probably be determined tonight, because up until now, I’d been the one hiding . . . I’d been the one who was gone. But that hadn’t changed the truth of those words. I was very much aware of what I had left behind in Thatch.

  But I’d also had a love that I’d known could withstand anything. Time, separation, death . . .

  I just hadn’t known the death would come so soon, or how hard it would be to try to live my life apart from Ben when my world had revolved around him for so long. I knew I couldn’t live my life grieving over him forever. I knew that. Ben wouldn’t want that for me, and if the roles had been reversed, I would want him to be happy. I would want him to love again.

  But knowing he would want that for me as well was so much easier to accept than actually allowing it for myself. It’s hard to continue on in life when the person holding your heart can’t.

  I stopped walking and stumbled back when Heather yanked on my hand, and I turned around to look at them.

  “Uh, where are you going?” Heather pointed to the brightly lit gallery we’d just passed, and my lips parted on a heavy exhalation.

  “Oh my God.” I took a few shaky steps toward the windows, my chest tightening as I looked at the drawing Janie had been talking about. It was the one Jagger had been finishing when I’d walked into his studio that morning.

  “Isn’t it amazing?” Janie squealed, and grabbed my other hand.

  “Jesus Christ, it looks just like you.” Heather stared with open amazement. “You said he was good, but . . . damn.”

  “I know,” I breathed.

  “Well, are you ready to go in? See if your guy is here?” Heather asked.

  I looked at Janie, and she must have seen the panic on my face, because she squeezed my hand once. “It’s okay, Grey. Whatever happens tonight, it’s okay. Just see if he’s here. Talk to him. He’s your closest friend if nothing else; you can’t hide from him forever.”

  No. But in that moment, I really wanted to try. Releasing Heather’s hand, I grabbed the delicate chain around my neck, searching for the ring that had been nestled between my breasts. Holding it tightly in my fist, I stared for a few more seconds at the drawing that had started all of this before slowly walking toward the entrance.

  The open gallery wasn’t crowded, but there were definitely a lot more people than I’d been expecting. Then again, I hadn’t really known what to expect. I’d had a dozen different scenarios playing through my mind all day. Janie had just been driving too fast when she saw the drawing and that’s why she thought it was of me . . . so this was all for nothing. The drawing would be the one and only piece of Jagger’s in the gallery, so, again, this would all have been for nothing. The gallery would be too crowded to get in. No one would be here at all. Jagger would be here with someone . . .

  My stomach clenched, and my grip on the ring tightened. If he was here at all, and he was with someone . . . I didn’t think I could handle seeing it. And that sick, jealous feeling sitting at the bottom of my stomach made no sense to me. Because again, I reminded myself that I had run from him. That even though he hadn’t tried to get ahold of me since the night I’d left, I hadn’t tried to call him either. And most importantly, my heart still belonged to his best friend.

  Janie, Heather, and I had been inside for close to twenty minutes, and I’d been staring at another drawing of me—the one that portrayed all of my grief—for countless minutes without realizing that the other two had left my side. I pressed the ring to my lips as I stared, and a jolt went through my body when I heard a deep voice directly behind me.

  “This is the hardest one to look at of you.”

  “Jagger,” I breathed. From the corner of my eye, I watched as he stepped up next to me. Close enough so our voices wouldn’t carry, but far enough that I’d have to reach to touch him. Keeping my eyes on the drawing, I shakily asked, “If it’s hard for you, then why is it here? Why do you keep it?”

  “I don’t know,” he murmured. “Probably because of what you said to me that night.”

  My brow furrowed, and I turned to look up at him, but his eyes never left the piece in front of us. “What night was it?”

  “Night of Ben’s funeral.”

  I nodded slowly as I looked back at the canvas. “I came to your house, but I don’t remember what I said.”

  “I opened the door, and you said, ‘Make it so that this is a dream. Wake me up, Jagger.’ And I remember thinking that was exactly what I wanted. To wake up. I couldn’t wake us up, but while I drew this that night, I knew I would do anything to keep us moving.”

  And he had. He’d always been there to talk about Ben, never treated me like I was too fragile, and had always pushed me to keep going. Everything I’d needed, and everything I’d pushed away.

  “I’m so sorry, Jag,” I whispered a minute later.

  He exhaled slowly, and when he spoke, there was a hint of the pain he’d been in since I’d left. “I never should have told you.”

  “Why?” I looked at him again, and when he still wouldn’t look at me, I reached out for him.

  “Because you ran away from me, Grey.” The pain in his voice tore through me, and my arm fell limply at my side. “You ran, and you stayed gone. But I get it, Grey, I swear to God I do. I understand why that upset you, why you aren’t okay with it. I thought—I thought if I gave you time, you would change your mind. I came here hoping enough time had passed, and I don’t know what I would’ve said to make you change your mind. But after seeing you come in . . . seeing how much better you look now that I’m not in your life . . . I can’t stand the thought of watching you go back to how you were. I can’t do it now.”

  “Jagger . . .” The plea in that one word was clear, but in that moment, I still wasn’t positive what I was begging of him. To forgive me? To understand why I was trying so hard to not let anyone else touch my heart? To know that I needed him more than he realized . . . more than even I had realized?

  “I just needed you to know that I understand, Grey.”

  Before I could ask what he understood, he turned around and walked away from me. In our short conversation, he’d never once looked at me. My eyes went back to the drawing of me, and I listened as his heavy footfalls drifted away. I could feel each step like it was another nail in the coffin of my relationship with Jagger, as friends or something more. I knew what I did right then would forever change Jagger and me.

  If I continued to look at this drawing for another minute before walking away from the gallery, then that would be it. We could never go back to the way we had been, because we couldn’t go back to being as close as we were now that I knew how he felt. I couldn’t do that to him; I couldn’t give him hope that there would someday be an us when I knew that I would never allow it. He would eventually find someone else, and I . . . I would just focus on moving.

  But if I stopped him, then the dynamics of our relationship would change in a way everyone had already been expecting them to. A way Jagger wanted them to. A way I wanted them to.

  That thought shook me as I finally admitted what I’d been trying so hard to deny. I wanted this. I wanted him.

  “Jagger,” I mumbled, and turned to look for him in the gallery. He was twenty feet away from me, shaking a man’s hand, with his back to me. “Jagger,” I said louder when he began walking again.

  He glanced over his shoulder fo
r a second, before pausing and turning to face me. His face went blank in an attempt to mask his emotions. I walked toward him, each step feeling a little easier than the last—as if my decision was solidifying with every step closer. He didn’t move toward me, and didn’t say anything when I stopped directly in front of him, just looked at me with those green eyes . . . waiting.

  “I’m sorry that I ran,” I whispered, and a muscle ticked in his jaw from the strain he was putting on it. “I was scared, and I think I still am. But I’m not better without you. It hurts to be away from you. This?” I gestured to the side and shrugged. “Seattle? I needed to think about what you said, what my family said . . . I just needed to think. I can think here with Janie, but that doesn’t mean I’m better here. And all of this”—I gestured toward myself—“was only because of tonight. Janie and Heather did this because they thought I would see you. I miss you every day, Jagger. I don’t know how long I would’ve stayed gone, but please . . . don’t stay away from me for me.”

  Taking a step forward, I leaned into his chest as I had done so many times in my life, and I knew that this was right—this was where I needed to be now. His arms automatically came up around my waist to hold me, and I sighed against his chest.

  “I’m scared.”

  “Why? If you’re scared to lose me, you won’t. I’ll always be here for you.” His voice was low, and the way it rumbled through his chest and against my cheek was something so familiar and so calming. When had I started craving this?

  “Not that. I just . . . I don’t know how to let myself love you too,” I confessed, and felt his body tighten against mine.

  Lifting my head to look at him, I paused when I found his face inches from mine—closer than it had ever been. I let myself take in everything about him that I never had before. His green eyes that seemed to look straight through me, the bridge of his strong nose leading down to full lips that were usually in a playful smirk. But now that my gaze was on them, they slowly parted as his breathing deepened, his chest moving harder against mine. When I looked up again, his eyes were dark with want.

  “Loving you scares me,” I whispered, “but I know I can’t keep telling myself that I’m not in love with you, Jagger.”

  “Excuse me.” A voice called out from next to us, but neither of us moved until I was tapped on the shoulder. I turned and took a step away from Jagger when I saw an older woman standing there. Her pondering expression turned excited when I was facing her. “It is you.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You’re the muse for the pieces, are you not?” she asked, turning enough to point at the drawing I’d just been in front of.

  I looked to Jagger for help, but he was still staring at me with an intensity I felt in my core. My mouth opened, and I looked back to the woman helplessly.

  “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you, you just look so much like her.”

  “I—I . . . they are—”

  “She is,” Jagger said quickly, stepping forward to put an arm around my waist and extending a hand to the woman. “Enjoy looking around, but I hope you don’t mind me stealing my muse away.”

  “Of course not.” The woman smiled at him, and sent me a knowing look as Jagger pulled me to his side and walked us quickly through the building and down a dark hall.

  When we reached the end of the hall, he turned me so my back was pressed against the wall and his body was caging me in. He slowly brought his hands up to my face, the tips of his fingers trailing along my jaw and cheeks until he was cradling my face in his large hands. For minutes, there was only the distant sound of the music playing in the gallery and our breathing as our eyes adjusted to the dark, and we just watched each other.

  “I’ve been waiting to hear those words from you for a long time, Grey LaRue.”

  My lips parted as his head dipped closer to mine, and soon Jagger was the only thing in my immediate world.

  He paused a breath away, and my eyes fluttered shut when he slowly trailed his nose down mine. His lips faintly brushed against mine as he spoke. “I don’t want to be Ben, and I don’t want to take what the two of you had away from you. I’m not going to try to replace him, Grey, because I don’t want to forget him either. I just want to love you the way I always have, and hope that one day you’ll love me half as much as you love him.”

  Slowly moving up, he passed his lips softly across one cheek, my forehead, and nose before settling back into the place that had me straining not to reach up to press my mouth to his.

  “Don’t be scared. I will always take care of you, I will always put your heart before my own, and I will never push you for more than you’re willing to give me,” he promised. “I have no expectations, and being mine doesn’t change the fact that you can talk to me about anything—including him.”

  I nodded my head, my nose and lips brushing against his as I did, and he leaned impossibly closer without completely closing the distance between us.

  “Don’t be scared, Grey,” he repeated, his voice now barely above a whisper.

  His mouth pressed against mine, the touch so tender, something so opposite Jagger, and yet something so completely Jagger when it came to the two of us. Both of our lips moved against the other’s in slow, synchronized movements before he slowly pulled away. Running a hand through my hair to brush it away, he left his hand cradling the side of my head as he stared down at me.

  “You know what I want. Tell me what you want from me. Whether it’s everything or nothing, I’ll always be here for you.”

  I swallowed past the tightness in my throat and brought my hand up to cover the one he was still holding against my cheek. Slowly letting my fingers glide down his arm until I was gripping the top of his forearm, I whispered, “I want you to kiss me again.”

  That lopsided smile crossed his face for a brief second before his lips were pressed against mine. My hands dropped to his waist when he tilted my head back, and his tongue lightly teased my lips. My body sagged into his when I opened my mouth to him, want and need for him surging through my body as the tips of his fingers barely brushed down my neck.

  “Grey,” he whispered into my mouth, and a shiver worked through my body.

  Leaning back enough to break the kiss, I looked up into his eyes and his brow furrowed when he saw the wetness gathering in mine. His mouth opened, but I spoke first. “You deserve someone who can give you as much of them as you’re giving.”

  Pain briefly crossed his face as he shook his head. “Tell me what you want.”

  I moved one of my hands up to his chest and dropped my eyes to stare at it. “I want to be selfish enough to ask you to give me everything while I try to figure this out. Figure out how to be okay, how to not be scared, how to completely give myself to you. But I—”

  “You’re not the only one who’s struggling, Grey,” he promised. “I’ve felt like I was betraying him for a long time, and I won’t lie to you, a part of me still feels that way. It’s hard knowing what is and isn’t right even though he’s not here anymore, because he was my best friend for most of my life. I’ve hated myself the last two years for not being able to stop loving you when I knew you were in so much pain. But I—I can’t. I can’t stop. I want you, and I want you forever.”

  I looked up into his darkened eyes at his words, my mind and heart equally torn. I knew a future with Ben was impossible, and I knew I’d just been blinding myself to what I’d felt for Jagger for who knew how long. But it was also hard to see myself doing this with him; it felt like I was letting Ben go, and that had a panicked feeling battling with my need for the man holding me. The love I’d always had for Jagger, mixed with the love I’d been denying . . . I could easily feel them now that I’d acknowledged my feelings and was here in front of him. But the love was terrifying me, like even my heart knew I wasn’t allowed to love someone the way I’d loved Ben.

  Jagger tightened his arms around me when he noticed the battle I was fighting. “You wouldn’t be the only one
trying to figure out how to go into this, Grey. I told you I’ll be there for you, and I swear I will. Through every hard time, through every unsure moment, I’ll be there . . . I just want you to be mine.”

  I nodded slowly, and a few tears slipped down my cheeks. “I want this. I know that I want you,” I whispered. The words were true, reaffirmed by the warming feeling in my chest, but that didn’t stop a tiny crack from forming in the same place for Ben. “I just hate that after you waited so long I still need to ask you to be patient with me.”

  He smiled softly and brushed his thumb across my cheek. “Don’t. I would’ve waited forever for you. I hadn’t been planning on telling you, and I would’ve left you here in Seattle as long as you needed if it weren’t for your brother.”

  My eyebrows pulled together. “What did Graham do?”

  “He said that you were doing really good here, and asked how I would feel if you found someone else. I knew I had to get here and try to talk to you. I just hadn’t known how much better you would look. I’d already talked to Janie, so I knew you weren’t seeing someone, but when I saw you walk in tonight I just didn’t know how to fight for you when you looked so happy.”

  “I told you this was because of you. I haven’t changed that much since I left. They picked out the outfit, made me go to a salon . . . and it was all with the hope that I would see you tonight.”

  Jagger’s signature lopsided smile crossed his face, and he looked away for a second. “Yeah, I get that now. I should’ve known what Janie would do when I put her in charge.”

  I laughed softly and shook my head in amazement. “You really came here and did all this because you were afraid I would find another guy?”

  He didn’t respond, but the slight rise of one eyebrow gave me the confirmation I’d been looking for.

  “No one else,” I said softly. “As unfair and horrible as it is for me to say it, I know it would kill me to see you with someone else. I don’t know when I fell in love with you. I can’t look back and remember when exactly it changed for me, only that it has.”