Page 58 of Sustain

My pulse kicks up a notch at the first direct contact we've had since our holiday pleasantries. I pause before typing back. Torn between relief at his reply and uncertainty swirling heavier now that an actual conversation has opened. Still, business talk feels like neutral enough territory for testing the waters.

Me: End of year accounting. Summary of tour and merch profits, expenses & payouts to everyone. Sorry, thought Eliza would have prepped you for this stuff. Sending you the templates I use.

I tap send on the standard issue Excel sheets we use every year, watching the little loading bar anxiously. Our text bubbles fall still and silent again. Until at last, those delightful threewiggling dots pop up signaling he's typing. I try futilely to temper the eyebrow-raising hope that sparks in me.

It's just routine paperwork, Mackenzie. That's likely all this exchange means.

But still...he wrote back. It's a start.

I straighten up in my desk chair, willing a substantive reply to manifest itself into being. I’m not at all ready for the short reply.

IAN: Got it. Thanks.

Wow. That was…something.

My gaze falls on the small gift box resting on my desk corner. I'd picked it up back in Vegas while doing some holiday shopping with Chelsie. She encouraged me to get Ian a little something, and well, when I saw them in the store, I had to buy them. Despite myself, I internally smile at what his reaction will be to the gift.

But that was all before things took this unexpected silent turn between us. And as I now stare glumly out at the LA skyline, I debate whether I should even still give it to him.

Who knows if a small gift can overcome the emotional distance that's opened up? Is it me? Did I do something to push him away? Or is this just me discovering how Ian truly is in real life? Non-communicative and distant. It doesn’t feel like him. It feels all kinds of wrong.

Then again, it’s quite possible the holidays likely monopolized his time at home in England with family. And it's not like we owe each other anything.

We never talked about it.

Why didn’t we talk about it? Why didn’t we plan out our next steps? Where this was going between us?

Everyone hates labels, but god damnit, I need to know where I stand. Something more happened between us in Aspen. I know I’m not alone in thinking that, and it scared the shit out of me. But, I’m still here. I’m still trying. Did it scare off Ian that much, that he’s retreating now?

The hero I know who saved me on the slopes, saved a cat frozen in the snow, and almost barehandedly saved a music festival cannot be the same man I’m texting now. My heart doesn’t want to believe it.

Maybe I shouldn't expect anything back. But damn, isn't that what we all want? To be loved the way we love?

Is this love? Jesus Christ.

I make a decision - I'll hold onto it a bit longer. See what unfolds after the chaos of the holidays subsides and regular day-to-day activity returns. Once he’s back in LA, I’ll be able to see where we stand. We’ll be able to talk face-to-face and see what each of us is willing to offer the other. I’m determined to figure this out.

New year, new relationship, new me who wants to actually fight for this one.

I set the gift aside with a tentative resolution kindling inside. Here's to new beginnings, I think wryly.

Wouldn't that be nice?

forty-two

. . .

Out of My Mind

Ian

Mackenzie's texts about year-end reports instantly transform my leisurely hotel morning into a shitstorm. With the girls currently starfished on the carpet watching cartoons, I scramble to access the band accounts on my phone. But blotchy cell service and this hotel’s sketchy Wi-Fi are making a mockery of productivity. I’m hamstrung by my limited technology here.

I need my LA home office setup, plus my laptop rather than just a mobile screen if I stand any chance of tackling the paperwork storm now brewing on my horizon. I really didn’t think I’d need a laptop for this trip. It’s the fucking holidays after all.

Obviously, I should have known better.

"Ladies, how do you fancy a surprise trip to visit Stormy kitty?" I ask brightly. June and Hayley instantly perk up. I'd shown them pictures of the rescue cat I adopted, and the updates from the neighbors, and they haven't stopped asking about her.

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