Page 154 of Keeping Score

“Come on,” I bit my lip, furiously jamming my finger repeatedly against the elevator button.

I waited a solid eleven, maybe twelve seconds before bolting for the staircase, feeling too much urgency to waste even seconds of time that could be spent reconciling with Brody.

Taking the steps two at a time and thanking my past self for the strict cardio routine I’d endured for the past ten years, I reached our floor in record time.

Turning to the right, I saw our door already wedged open, like a sign from the universe.

I bolted right through the door, into the apartment and smack into a solid chest. I dropped the flowers, trying to brace against the collision.

“Maggie?” Brody’s voice was shocked as his hands moved to steady me. “What are you doing here?”

“Brody.” I breathed out in relief, allowing myself the pleasure of sinking into his touch. “I was looking for you.”

I felt myself burning with all the love I’d been silently carrying around for him, knowing it was finally about to be released one way or another.

I practically felt my eyes shining as I stared up at him, looking like the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen. I must’ve looked like a lovestruck fool, but I didn’t care. I was.

I was ready to show him all of me. I didn’t need to be scared of vulnerability. I was safe with Brody, I’d always been safe with Brody, I’d always be—

“Wait, why does the apartment look weird?”

I stepped around him, taking in every detail of the space, or rather the glaring absence of detail.

“Your stuff is gone.” I turned to him slowly. Numbly. Processing the unfathomable.

I looked around to reconfirm that I wasn’t mistaken, but it was true. His stereo was gone. His framed picture of Bobby Orr securing the Stanley Cup. His collection of duffel bags that I always thought cluttered up the doorway area and now realized just left it depressingly empty without them.

“Yeah,” he said uncomfortably, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I just finished packing up. Figured I’d get a head start on sending it over to my new place.”

“Your new place?” I said numbly. “You already got a new place? In Michigan?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged, looking away.

Maybe I was too pitiful to look at, standing there in the ashes of my life, my arms hugging myself as if I could keep myself from crumbling.

“I didn’t know it was official. I just thought it was something you were thinking about.” I mumbled. “I didn’t think it would be this fast.”

I thought I had time to change your mind.

But of course it was happening this fast. That was Brody. He made a decision and he stuck with it. He wasn’t the one plagued by uncertainty and indecisiveness. He wasn’t the one who was so afraid of screwing up that he wouldn’t take a step in any one direction. That was me.

I’d been the one holding him back.

“Yeah, well, you know we’ve played a shit season. It’s not like we’ll be making the playoffs. So after our last game in a few days, I figure I should just be on my way.”

“Is this what you want?” My voice was a weak, feeble thing. I heard the pitiful crack and could only just barely stop myself from crying right then and there.

He hesitated for a beat, staring at me. He opened his mouth, then shut it.

“It’s for the best,” he said finally.

I nodded. Accepting that. I wanted what was best for him. I didn’t want to stand in his way anymore. So even though it killed me, even though it tasted like glass going down, I swallowed all the words I’d come to say.

But I couldn’t stop myself from asking—

“You weren’t even going to say goodbye?”

“I couldn’t.” His face contorted into an expression of utter devastation. “I just… couldn’t.”