Page 109 of So Not My Thing
Miss Mary was right. The surety sat behind my breastbone like a light in a distant window, small but steady.
Miles Crowe was the goods.
It didn’t make what had happened with Kyla okay. But he had done what he’d been trained to do. And I had been naïve not to realize that as long as he and I were together, to some extent, that old part of my past was going to come up.
Could I live with that?
Was he worth it?
Miles is the goods.
I got up and went to the piano and played “Brave,” singing it softly to myself, replaying his texts in my mind.
As long as you’re with me, your past will come up.
Was I brave enough for that?
I can’t protect you from that.
Did I need him to?
I let the notes die beneath my fingers and rubbed my palms against my thighs. They were clammy. People would know it was me again, in that meme. It might take on new life, not that it had ever died.
I hated the idea.
I stared down at the piano keys and thought about the weeks I’d spent watching Miles play in the Turnaround, sharing his music with me, the stuff he wouldn’t play for anyone else, the incomplete lyrics, the snatches of melody. The way he let me see everything in process before it was perfect and ready for everyone else. How he shared his worries and fears about the club. And his hopes and dreams for it.
Maybe he hadn’t said “I love you” in the exact way I wanted to hear it, but he’d opened every other part of himself to me. I’d repaid him with doubt, forcing him to explain and defend past relationships. Forcing him to prove his worthiness to lease Miss Mary’s place. I hadn’t even told my parents about him, so why should he bring me home to his?
I hadn’t given Miles any reason to stay, but he had.
He had a dozen reasons to leave, but he hadn’t.
Miles Crowe is the goods.
Suddenly, I couldn’t fumble my phone into my hands fast enough. I owed him an apology. We’d figure this out in a few days when he got past the grand opening, but I couldn’t leave him thinking I wanted to walk away.
I’d learn how to deal with new notoriety. We’d figure this out.
He answered on the third ring. “Ellie. Hey.”
His voice was subdued, and my heart gave a hard twist. I had done this to him. “Miles, hey. How’s everything going over there?”
He sighed. “It’s chaos, but it was like this before all my tours too, and it will work out. I’m choosing to believe it’ll work out before opening tomorrow.”
I could hear the stress in his voice, so I tried to wedge as much positivity as I could in mine. “It’s going to be great.”
“I hope so.” But he sounded subdued. “Hey, look, I’m really sorry about the interview. I called and asked her not to run that part, but she did anyway.”
I digested that. “I didn’t see it. My mom decided Channel Five doesn’t exist in her house anymore.”
“Right.”
We both fell silent, and I didn’t know how to segue into the next thing I needed to say. There was no smooth transition. I cleared my throat and jumped in. “I’m sorry I freaked out about it. I shouldn’t have accused you of setting me up.”
“I would never do that to you.”
I could hear the hurt.
