Page 38 of The Consequence of Loving Me

I can’t help but reach out to her, pulling her as close to me as possible.

I’m mourning a relationship I thought I’d have my whole life. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and after hearing her out, I understand where she’s coming from. Neither of us deserves to be in a relationship that lacks passion, a desperate need for the other person, but I never thought we would end. I thought the love I had for her had always been enough. I see now that you can love somebody with every single part of you—and I mean every fucking part of you—yet it doesn’t mean you’re in love with them. I wouldn’t have thought that to be true—before—but it is.

And it leaves us both in a shattered mess.

She strokes my back as I drag on this moment with her for as long as possible. I hope, with everything I have, that we can both get over this and actually stay friends. That we can stay Maverick and Selma without the title of boyfriend and girlfriend attached to it. But it’s fucking scary because there’s no guarantee that we’ll be able to pick up where we left off.

And a life without Selma is a life I don’t want.

“What if we tried harder?” I ask, a last desperate attempt to keep her.

Her fingers pause. “We can’t. I think you’ve already started to give the part of you away that I never really had. And that’s the part of you that matters. The part of you that doesn’t feel a responsibility. The part of you that falls hard and fast and wildly. I don’t have that part of you. I don’t think I ever have, but I think someone else does now. Or could, at least.”

I look up at her, emotion lodged deep in my throat. She’s talking about Veronica in a way I’ve never allowed myself to even think of. It’s weird to hear these things come from her mouth, because I would have refused to voice any of it for the rest of my life. It’s in this moment that I realize I may actually have some sort of feelings for Veronica. I never wanted to acknowledge them, and probably never would have if it weren’t for this newfound freedom.

With Selma in my arms, I feel guilty for having this revelation.

I hold onto her for another moment longer before I step back. “I don’t want to talk about Veronica. Nothing ever happened between the two of us. Just because I was with her tonight doesn’t mean anything.”

Selma’s fingers swipe underneath her eyes. Her tiny shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. A thousand different thoughts run through my head. Half of them belong to Selma, the other half to Veronica.

“I want to talk about her, Maverick. I know nothing happened between the two of you. God, I know that. And honestly, it makes me feel worse, because I know you would’ve stayed with me forever, even if you were falling for her. You’ve always felt such a duty to protect me. I hate it. I don’t want that kind of love, Maverick. And I don’t want that for you. I understand that nothing happened between the two of you, but I won’t continue to be the reason that nothing does. I know you love me, but I think you want her. Or could want her. The attraction between you two is obvious to anyone with eyeballs. Always has been.”

I shake my head at her. “You don’t understand. Nothing will or would ever happen with me and Veronica. The only reason we’re even friends is because she never wants a relationship ever again, and because I have—or had—a girlfriend. She looked at me as a safe person to be friends with.”

“Maybe something will happen, maybe something won’t. But, Mav, you owe it to yourself to have that option. I deserve it, too. Which is partially why I’m leaving you. I’m going to stay with Madison until midterms are over and then I’m going home. For the first time since we were children, I’m going to face my family for real. It might suck. I might completely break down, but it’s a breakdown I need to have. I need to learn to fight my own battles, to rescue myself, and you need to learn that love isn’t about putting someone else back together, making them whole while you give pieces of yourself away until you have nothing left of yourself. We both have things we need to work out with ourselves, and we need to do that apart from each other.”

She steps off the barstool. We both stand there, just staring at each other. For the first time, I feel the distance between us. It’s odd how spoken truths can change everything.

“Do you feel the need to save her?” Selma asks, breaking the silence. Her eyes stay on me until I finally answer.

“No. I feel the need for her to save herself.” This is something I finally have to admit—even to myself. It’s an odd feeling.

“Good.” She walks to the couch and picks up a duffle bag I hadn’t even noticed.

I go to take it from her, to offer to carry it, but she shakes her head. I guess this is the beginning of her fighting her own battles.

“I’ll always love you, Maverick, but I think the love we owe to each other is just the love of lifelong friendship. This isn’t the end of our story, but the start of something new. Something better.”

She walks up to me and I pull her into my body for what’s probably the last time.

It’s bittersweet. It’s sad. It’s a goodbye.

It’s an end.

“Goodbye, Selma. I’ll always love you, too.”

And with that, she walks out the door and I’m left alone in an empty house, with an even emptier heart.

21

Veronica

I didn’t go home last night. I slept in Tristan’s bed instead. I hadn’t expected it, but he showed up at Lenny’s and one thing led to another. Then, I went to my classes today in yesterday’s clothing.

I found myself at another bar tonight, too afraid to go home and face Maverick.

So, instead I found Donte.

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