Page 50 of Mad for Madison

As if reading my mind, Gran continued. “She loves him, darling, and so do you. And you may have the power to change the outcome.”

I scoffed and stood up. “I don’t have any power.”

Gran didn’t argue, but the seed of thought was planted in the fertile soil of heartbreak and an overthinking personality. I went to bed with her words still swirling around me.

It wasn’t Gran, in the end, who made me act. Nor Lily. Although I kept both of them in mind as one day morphed into the next, Gran’s gentle probing and Lily’s constant questions about Madison only made me fill the cracks in my defenses. If loving meant being hurt in return, I wasn’t sure I had much more love to give. My love was best spent on Lily, not on chasing things I had given up six years ago.

I resolved not to change my mind. The decision to respect Madison’s wishes until my heart sank all the way to hell was final. Yet Mama Viv, the one person who saw through every veil and every wall you could put between her and yourself, swirleda funny straw through her pink cocktail after a weekend party. She had the books laid out before her on the bar, reviewing them while I did the inventory.

“It would be easier if we went digital,” I offered.

“Can’t get used to it,” Mama Viv replied.

“You wouldn’t have to,” I said, chuckling at the idea that Mama Viv actually believed she couldn’t use a computer to run her business. “I’d do it for you.”

“Do you mean that?” Mama Viv asked, her voice a little less bored.

It was nice to laugh. “It should be part of my job already.” For the shortest of moments, I was happy to just exist as my old self, here and now, doing something I enjoyed and not longing to have more.

“Oh, Bradley,” Mama Viv said as if releasing a long-denied sigh. “I’ve enjoyed Beacon so much. Have I told you? Performing for those wonderful, brave people in the safe house. I wish I would do more of that.”

“In Luca DiMarco’s shelter?” I asked.

“Exactly,” Mama Viv said. “We had such fun.”

“Why shouldn’t you do more of it?” I asked, writing down how much gin we had left.

“You are absolutely right,” Mama Viv said, lifting her head and looking at me, a secretive smile touching her red lips. Her wig was huge. Epic, even. “How would you like to manage Neon Nights, Bradley?”

My heart skipped a beat. “Manage? Do you think…?”

“I do,” she cut me off. “That’s precisely why I’m asking.”

“What about Tristan?” I asked.

“Tristan manages the kitchen,” Mama Viv said. “He’s passionate about it, but he wouldn’t be interested in what goes on here. Besides, you’ve practically done the job all along. This isjust a title and a pay raise with a few odd details to handle along the way.”

“Mama Viv,” I breathed, hands trembling a little.

“Darling, don’t thank me,” Mama Viv said and looked into my eyes. There was a wealth of kindness there that I have seen countless times in my years here. Mama Viv adopted you for life whether you needed it or not. Nothing rocked her love and support. “It’s nothing more than what you deserve.”

I swallowed. “If you won’t let me thank you, then let me promise to run this place in a way that’ll make you proud.”

“That’ll do just fine,” Mama Viv said softly and exhaled with relief. We were silent for a little while before Mama Viv asked the obvious question. “And Madison is no longer around?”

I shook my head, then told her shortly that he’d left and that it was better for everyone this way.

Mama Viv looked at me with a softness that carried the weight of years and heartbreak, her voice steady and rich with emotion. “Love, real love, doesn’t come around often enough to let fear or pride keep you from it. I lost the love of my life to a battle neither of us could fight, but if he were here now, I’d crawl through fire, swallow every ounce of hurt, and beg him to stay. Because love worth having is love worth fighting for—messy, painful, and terrifying as it may be.” Her eyes glistened, but her smile was unwavering. “You don’t get to choose the easy path, Bradley. You just get to decide if the person waiting at the end of the hard one is worth the scars.”

I hadn’t even noticed them until the tears spilled down my cheeks, and I turned away from Mama Viv. Clear in my view, Madison’s building stood in the orange glow of the street lights, but his room was dark, just like it had been the entire week.

To fight or not? And to what end?

CHAPTER 12

Without You

Madison

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