Page 93 of Rival Hearts

“Did you see it?” I asked, still in disbelief. “Did you see him?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I grabbed your iPad. How are you feeling?” She wiped her tears and sniffed.

I stared at Lila’s phone. “Overwhelmed. Shocked. Relieved. I—I thought maybe it was just me.”

“You didn’t think he loved you?”

“He kept the job from me. I couldn’t see how it meant he felt anything close to how I felt. I wouldn’t have done that to him.” I shook my head, my voice growing thick with unshed tears. “I wanted to matter enough for him to tell me, for him to share those big decisions with me.” I stared at Lila’s phone, lost in a haze. After a minute, I peered at Lila, hopeful. “Can I watch it again? How do I watch it again?”

Instead of using her phone, Lila took my TV remote and scrolled through the applications until she got to the one they’d used, and she clicked on Kelvin’s profile. “It’s here.” She took her phone from my outstretched hand. “I’m going to go. I need to help with cleanup.”

My mind circled what he’d done as I accepted the remote from Lila. “Do you think he’ll come here when you’re finished?”

She shook her head. “No, he said he didn’t want to push you into responding if you wanted the distance. He just wanted you to know how he felt.”

I wiped at the few tears that rolled down my cheeks. Part of me wanted to hop in Lila’s car and drive to the concert, fallinto Grady’s arms, pretend nothing else mattered. But I needed to absorb it all, analyze it, make sure I really knew in my heart everything he’d said. If I was going to risk my fragile emotions, I needed to be absolutely sure I could give him my trust again.

“Hey,” Lila said from the door. “Switch off your brain for once, okay? Let your heart lead you. He’ll protect it this time. I have faith.” She shut the door behind her.

Holding my breath, I clicked on the button to stream it again. For a long time, I watched Grady’s performance on repeat and little by little, pieces of my heart stitched together. By the time I rose from my seat in the living room, I knew I was ready.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Grady

Iclimbed into bed and refused to let disappointment drag me under. She hadn’t come. It was unlikely she’d appear tomorrow either, since it was Jim’s funeral.

Almost three hours ago, the concert had ended. We’d cleaned up, I’d signed autographs, and Lila had returned. She’d assured me that Maggie had seen my declaration and song, and she’d been rewatching it as Lila left. She hadn’t given any indication of how Maggie had taken my performance and declaration.

She processed things deeply, which is something I’d come to realize since I’d allowed myself to get to know Maggie to the fullest. Decisions were never made on the spur of the moment, but they were always decisive. I was the opposite—quick, impulsive decisions I sometimes regretted. In my heart, I’d hoped we’d learn to balance each other. That was only possible if she gave me another chance.

Whatever happened between us now, I’d put everything I had into that performance. It might have been just for her, but the video was trending across social media. Jack had called withinhalf an hour of the live stream to see if I had enough material for a whole album. I did. More than enough.

The writing had been a torrent, ripping through until Maggie broke off our relationship. Then, my creativity slowed to a trickle. So much of my brain had become consumed with supporting her from afar, and there hadn’t been room for much else.

I tugged the blankets higher and rubbed my face. Hite and Zeus were on the bed on either side. Normally, I didn’t let them upstairs. My bed was a king-size, but with the two dogs, it felt more like a single, and a tight one at that. I buried my hands in their fur, and they stretched and yawned, pressing the covers tight against my legs. The chances of getting a good night of sleep were slim, anyway. When I wasn’t thinking about Maggie, my mind drifted to Jim.

Emily had confided her son, Amir, was struggling to understand his grandpa’s death. They’d been close, with Jim acting as a second parent more than a grandparent. I couldn’t imagine trying to explain death over and over to a young child who’d already lost his father. I knew from experience Amir might not remember all the memories made with his grandfather, but the feeling he’d gotten from the relationship would linger. It was a blessing, which sometimes felt like a curse, especially in those first few grief-filled days and weeks. You longed for the connection you’d never have again.

The doorbell pierced my dream. Without realizing it, I’d drifted to sleep. For a moment I wasn’t sure the sound was real. Hite and Zeus stirred, jumping off the bed and trotting down the stairs. I didn’t dare hope Maggie might be at the door so late at night. The funeral was tomorrow. It was just as likely to be a drunk Trent on my doorstep, looking to reminisce about our father, which he’d already done once this week. Where my memories of our dad sometimes felt too vivid, my brothermourned the lack of detail in his recollections. To me, Dad was a tangible person and to Trent, he was a shadow who loomed over our lives, never quite enough.

At the front door, I took a deep breath before opening it. On the other side, Maggie clutched her hands together, her cheeks stained with tears. I scanned her face, not sure what to make of her appearance. A lump was in my throat, making it impossible to speak.

“I thought,” she said, her words garbled, “you were looking for a way to let me go.”

“Come here.” I drew her into my chest, cradling her close. “Never, Maggie May. I meant every word of that song. I love you. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

Her hands circled my waist, and she sobbed into my chest. I smoothed her hair and kissed the top of her head. Crouching down, I lifted her into my arms and carried her up the stairs.

“My shoes,” she said. “And my coat.”

“Can go on my floor for one night. Or I’ll put them on a chair if the floor will stress you out.” I kissed her temple as she looped her arms around my neck and pressed her face into the hollow. “Maybe I’ll hide them so you can’t run away in the morning.” I was teasing, mostly.

She looked up and framed my face with her hands. I stared into her tear-filled coffee eyes. With her in my arms, on the threshold of being in my bed once again, my heart had never felt so full, so complete. There was nothing better than this feeling, than being with her.

“I love you,” she whispered, drawing my lips to hers.

Hearing those words was better than anything that had come before. I’d hoped she might return my feelings, or at least come to return them in time. Knowing she was there, that I’d won her heart made my chest expand. Nothing in my life compared to those words from her, not the places I’d seen, the things I’dwon, not any other person I’d met. I hoped someday, when I was nearing the end of my life, this moment would be the one replaying.

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