“What do you want me to do? You think I’m just gonna go hang out with a horse and it’s gonna magically cure me?”
“Maybe not. But there has to be something.”
“Maybe you need to accept that this is impossible.”
She stood back like I’d slapped her or something.
“Do you think you don’t deserve to be happy or something? Is that it?”
“It’s my fault,” I practically yelled in her face. “Don’t you get that? It’s my fault.”
She shook her head. But instead of asking me what I meant by that, or refuting it, she said, “Well, of course it’s your fault. It has to be someone’s fault, right? You need someone to blame. You could’ve blamed so many people, and I’m sure you did. I’m sure you blamed Gabe. And the rest of your band. And the crew. And the hotel staff. And the first responders who didn’t get there in time. I’m sure you blamed the man who set the fire, but he’s dead now. And dead men don’t feel pain, right? You could’ve blamed so many people. But isn’t it just more effective to blame yourself? Because that’s what hurts the most, right? It’s the best way to punish yourself for something you can’t change. And besides, it’s just easiest to blame yourself. You’re the closest target.”
I said nothing. My whole body was shaking. I could feel the tears burning in my eyes, and I just stood there, frozen, trying not to break down in front of her.
“Can’t you ever forgive yourself?” she said softly, studying my face. “Gabe would’ve forgiven you, long ago, if he were here to do it. You know he would.”
I forced myself to turn and step into the studio. My joints were stiff. I was forgetting to breathe.
“Why won’t you let anyone help you?” She practically begged from the doorway behind me. “Why do you have to suffer through this alone?”
I turned back to her. “That’s what you want, to suffer with me? Why the fuck would you want that?”
She didn’t say anything, just stood there, looking at me from the threshold.
Out. In.
We stared at each other for a long moment, while my heart thudded in my chest, so hard. I was still shaking as I drew a deep, slow breath. Then another. And another.
Four counts in. Hold four. Four counts out.
“No,” I said, but my fight was fading. “No. I’ll only drag you down.”
“That’s bullshit, Cary. If you push me away, you’re not protecting me. You’re not protecting yourself, either. You’re just throwing it all away.”
My gaze dragged over her. I didn’t want to shut the door in her face. I didn’t want to.
I was giving in. I could feel it. I tried with my last bit of fight to push her away, but I could feel myself losing the battle. I didn’t want to win this fight. I didn’t want to push her away.
You promised her you wouldn’t do this.
“What are you still doing here?” I asked her, my voice small. “Go live your life, Taylor. It’s waiting for you.”
“Well,” she said quietly, not going anywhere at all, “I’m waiting for you.”
Chapter Thirty
Taylor
Put a Flower in Your Pocket
December
I’d never been so nervous walking into a party in my life.
It wasn’t all the beautiful people in the place, or the famous people, or the amount of money that I knew had been spent on this thing. It was the heartrending anticipation of not knowing if Cary was going to show up.
I’d come to the Players’ album release party at the Crystal hotel without him. In an effort to avoid another argument about it, I’d gone ahead with getting my party outfit ready and making plans. He’d asked me to go without him, with friends. So that was what I did.
I just had to trust that he’d get to the party himself, if that’s what he chose to do. I couldn’t force him.
I’d made it clear that I thought he should come.
But it was his decision.
Danica was coming in a limo with Ashley and a few other people, and while I’d originally planned to join them, I’d opted to come with Merritt when she called to ask if I was going. She didn’t seem to have a date, so we paired up. She got a sitter for her kid, and we got ready at my apartment downtown before catching a cab to the hotel.
When we arrived, it was clear that a VIP event had taken over the premises. The