She loves me.

She admitted it to me…

She fucking loves me.

After Maggie left, I lay in bed in her hotel room for a while. It wasn’t like lying in bed thinking about her was a new experience for me, but this time I definitely had new food for thought.

She.

Loves.

Me.

When she didn’t come back to her room, I called her.

She didn’t answer.

I tried to sort through all the shit she just told me. But all I could really think about was the only thing that really sank in; the only thing that really mattered anyway.

She loves me.

* * *

Eventually, I dozed off. When I woke up mid-morning, Maggie still hadn’t come back. I checked my phone. No missed call from her, no message.

I sent her a text, then got up and went to my own room. I lay in bed, wanting to sleep some more. We’d been up all night and I was still tired, but I couldn’t relax.

So I smoked some weed, and I thought about what she said to me again.

She said she loves me.

I thought about all the shit that had gone down between us over the past two years… seeing it in a different light. Reconsidering everything that had gone wrong with the knowledge that Maggie loved me.

That maybe she’d loved me all along.

I thought about how, after we’d gotten married in Vegas, there was that long and difficult nine months of cold war, heated fights, and the occasional angry fuck. Until we screwed the night of Jesse’s wedding, almost a year ago now, and something changed. Maggie seemed to soften toward me, a little.

After that night, I’d tried like hell to get her back into bed, to recapture that feeling between us. To make her give in to me again, the way she did that night.

The way she’d looked at me, for just a moment, when I was inside her.

The way she’d said my name.

The way she’d begged for my cock as she came…

And a few times, I’d succeeded.

But things stayed pretty rough between us anyway.

Over the phone, we argued when she wouldn’t see me. In person, she’d been careful not to be alone with me, to keep conversation professional. Neutral.

Though sometimes, I’d still managed to get her alone.

And when I did… the result was predictable.

Me and Maggie, in bed.

Or on the floor… or whatever surface was available.

Naked and all over each other.

Then Maggie would flip her bitch switch and freeze me out again.

It was like she was two different people. A woman who wanted me so bad she couldn’t resist me… sometimes. And a woman who wanted nothing to do with me, other than our working relationship.

Because anything more than a working relationship was a slippery-ass slope to sex town.

We both knew it.

I loved the fact. Maggie didn’t.

And whenever our working relationship forced us together with other people around, like Brody or anyone in the band, she was all charm, overly-fucking-friendly.

Fake-friendly.

That was what really scared me. How fake-friendly she could be in front of everyone else, then totally ice me out.

I’d always thought I was trying to convince Maggie that we could work. That I was trying to charm her or seduce her or just plain persuade her into feeling something more for me than she did. Or, best case, that I was trying to uncover some deeper feelings she might have for me, that I hoped like hell she had, when I didn’t really know if she did.

And I thought I was failing.

Epically, and over and over.

For a while, during a particularly long cold spell, I thought it was really over between us.

And I didn’t take it so well.

I made some mistakes.

Not Dallas mistakes, but other mistakes.

And as usual, Maggie wasn’t so quick to forgive or forget.

But then Dirty reunited with Seth, and things seemed to turn a corner—for everyone. We were all pretty damn happy, and Maggie seemed to cheer the fuck up a bit.

She was happy about the band being whole again, about the album, about the upcoming tour; we all were. Maybe she was just caught up in her work and distracted enough to forget how pissed at me she was.

For whatever reason, my charms seemed to be working on her again. I knew we were really on an upswing when she started laughing at my jokes. She even came out on the town a few times with me and the boys, after I’d moved up to Vancouver. She wore sexy shit and semi-flirted with me. Or at least she didn’t immediately shoot me down when I flirted with her.

Progress.

I’d been texting her, calling her, turning up the heat at every opportunity; Maggie didn’t give me many.

But then one night… the night of Jessa’s baby shower, I’d somehow managed to convince Maggie to come over and see me. At my place.

Alone.

You know, just to talk.

And we had talked. About the new album.

And about us.

About how she could never seem to trust me, which was fucked up (my words).

About how I didn’t deserve her trust (her words).

Then, predictably, I got her undressed.

On my couch.

Underneath me.

I was just about to peel off her panties when my phone started ringing. When we realized the number calling was Jessa’s, Maggie freaked out and made me answer it. She was up and getting dressed before I’d even gotten off the phone. By the time I told her Jessa’s water had broke, she was out the door.

After that, she avoided me even harder.

She didn’t seem as mad. Regretful, maybe. But she clearly didn’t want to be alone with me. I let it slide for a while, because I figured she’d come around again, like she always did.

At least she wasn’t being as cold to me anymore.

But then Christmas happened.

On the eve of Christmas Eve, I threw a party at my place, and Maggie helped me plan it. Neither of us invited Dallas… but Dallas showed up.

That night, Maggie saw Dallas all over me.

And read the situation totally wrong.

Fact was, women were always coming up to me and feeling me up. A lot of the female population just seemed to think they had a right to. Like my cock was public property or something. In the past, it wasn’t like I minded.

These days, I avoided that shit as much as possible.

But chicks could be ruthless.

Wasn’t exactly my fault Dallas walked up to me and grabbed my dick before I could stop her. Wasn’t really Dallas’ fault either; she didn’t exactly know I was married. Thanks to Maggie and her Don’t you dare tell anyone bullshit.

All Maggie saw, though, was Dallas’ hand down the front of my pants.

Really, Maggie had seen it all. Most of the time she seemed to just let it roll off. She definitely saw more shit and put up with more shit than any woman should have to.

Half the reason I loved her, probably—she was strong as hell.

But even though she kept refusing to be my wife, when she saw Dallas grope me like that, I knew it cut her.

Even if I never wanted it to happen.

True, I’d fucked Dallas a few times. But that was before I married Maggie. Since we’d been married, I’d only fucked Dallas once, and that was in the early days, when Maggie was barely speaking to me and kept demanding a divorce.

I was only human, I was a fucking dude, and besides that, I had a heart and Maggie and her insistence that our marriage was a crock of shit did a number on it for a while.

I’d tried to explain all of that to her, again, after the Christmas party. But she wasn’t having it.

Instead, she froze me the fuck out.

And the cold war started all over again.

She pretended like she didn’t give a fuck about me or where I put my dick.

But all those times I’d gotten her alone, gotten her naked, and pounded her defenses right down to the ground…

She cared.

I’d seen it in her eyes. Felt it in her anger. Fucking tasted it all over her when she gave in to me.

She cared a fuck of a lot more than she ever admitted.

She fucking loved me.

She just wouldn’t admit it to me.

Until now.

There were times when I’d seriously doubted Maggie had any real feelings for me beyond friendship and general annoyance.

Times when I wondered… if maybe she really did regret it. All of it.

Marrying me in Vegas.

Staying married to me.

Ever kissing me or touching me or letting me near her at all.

But now I knew.

She kept pushing me away because she loved me.

Which meant that I still had a chance… no matter if she tried to keep pushing me away.

Maggie had real feelings for me she didn’t want to admit, but she’d admitted them to me last night. She thought she could avoid those feelings by avoiding me, but that wasn’t true. The feelings were still there.

And I was still here.

If she thought she could ignore me and make it all go away, she was wrong. Dead wrong.

All I had to do was keep getting her alone. Keep breaking down her wall, brick by fucking brick, until there was nothing left between us but my feelings for her… and her feelings for me.

Fucking love.

* * *

I floated around on this dumbass cloud… for not even two days. Not even forty-eight hours, and Maggie Omura sucked the wind right the fuck out of my sails.

It was the night of the San Diego show, and I hadn’t seen her since she told me she loved me and ran the fuck away.

I didn’t even see her backstage at the show. Apparently, she was refusing to show her face to me, any-fucking-where.

As soon I came offstage and she was still nowhere to be seen, I went straight outside. We were supposed to drive back to our L.A. hotel tonight, and I didn’t even know if Maggie had come with us to San Diego. Her Lady Bus was parked two down from mine, but fuck if I knew if Maggie was on there or not.

I told Shady to stay outside and I disappeared onto my bus, alone. I was still drenched, sweaty, didn’t even take a shower along the way. I just tore off my shirt, popped the button on my jeans and grabbed my weed.

I’d barely sat down when someone knocked on the door. It was a soft little knock, and every fibre of my fucking being snapped to attention because I knew it was Maggie.

Then the door opened and Talia poked her head in instead.

“Hey, Zane. Do you have a minute?”

I didn’t answer her, but I also didn’t tell her to fuck off, so she came right on in. She pulled a couple of papers off her little clipboard thing and laid them out on the table for me as I rolled up a joint. She was already talking, going over a bunch of shit I was supposed to care about, rattling off the dates we were filming concert footage for the “Blackout” video. Then something about album sales? Some interviews I had to do tomorrow on the road, some meet-and-greet in Phoenix.

I barely heard it all. Definitely couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Couldn’t think of anything but Maggie, disappearing on my ass.

I lit up the joint, took a drag, and finally cut her off. “What’re you doing here?”

She looked at me, and I let my eyes wander down. She had a deep tan and her tits were hiked up, kinda bursting out of her tank top, which most guys would probably appreciate. She was a hot little thing, and her tits were bigger than Maggie’s.

Fucking annoyed me.

“I’m going over your schedule for tomorrow,” she said. “In Phoenix.” Like I didn’t know where the fuck we were tomorrow.

“I got that. What are you doing here?”

“Um…” She looked around the bus, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Who sent you?”

“Maggie. She told me to—”

“Yeah. Well, tell Maggie I’m gonna fire you if I see your face on my bus again.”

Her brown eyes went wide, and she just stood there in shock.

When I didn’t take it back or say another fucking word, she turned around and got the fuck off my bus.

When she was gone, I threw on some music while I smoked up. Didn’t help my mood at all. First song to play on random was Alice in Chains, “Nutshell.” Gorgeous, depressing shit.

But instead of getting depressed, I got angry. I felt agitated instead of more mellow.

Then I started pacing like a caged animal.

The last two days, anytime I’d messaged Maggie that I wanted to talk to her, she didn’t message back. Ever.

When I texted her about work shit, she replied. Every time.

Or Talia did.

I was starting to actually doubt that things were any better between us now that she’d admitted she loved me. I was realizing, fucking slowly, that maybe they were actually worse.

I was starting to fear another long, fucking painful freeze-out.

And it was pissing me off.

By the time Maggie stormed onto my bus, I was livid. So was she, by the looks of things.

“You said what to Talia?”

At least I knew where she was now.

“I said,” I growled right back at her, “I’ll fire her ass next time I see her on my bus.”

“You can’t fire Talia.”

“Like fuck I can’t.”

She stared at me, her eyes raking over my bare chest and snagging on my unbuttoned jeans. “Don’t make this about her because you’re in a bad mood.”

“Bad mood?” I laughed. “I’m in a great mood. Why wouldn’t I be? Two nights ago, my estranged wife told me she loves me. Good times, right?”

“Estranged? I think there has to be some sort of relationship in the first place for one to become ‘estranged,’ Zane.”

“Yeah, maybe. You were always better with the semantics than I was. Had a legal wedding, but we’re not married, right? Said your vows, but they weren’t real, right? But you did say you love me. I mean, we both heard it. You gonna deny it now? Ignore me? Send Talia to do your work for you so you never have to see me again?”

“It’s not my work. It’s Talia’s work. I’ve got my own work to do, and plenty of it, and it doesn’t include holding your hand and spoon-feeding your damn schedule to you all the time. I’m not your personal bitch, Zane.”

“And Talia is?”

“Better her than me,” she snapped right back.

Jesus Christ, where did she get off being so mad at me?

And why did it have to get me so fucking hot?

I stared her down, my blood boiling and my dick standing at attention, rock-hard for her, as fucking always. “You want me to fuck her, is that it?”

“What?”

“She supposed to be bait or something? A test? Send her onto my bus alone enough times and see what happens?”

“That’s fucking ridiculous.”

“See if the same thing happens when I’m alone with her as what happens when I’m alone with you?”

No. Clearly that wasn’t her plan.

I could tell by the look of offense, annoyance, and just plain disgust on her face. I could see it… as she started to wonder what exactly had happened.

“Did you fuck her?” she asked.

“Would it matter if I did?”

“Well, she’s pretty much your employee and she’s my assistant, so yes.”

“How about the fact that I’m your husband? That rate with you at all?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing. She was wearing a dress, a short lingerie-looking black dress, under her suede jacket, and it was such fucking bullshit that I wasn’t even allowed to touch her.

That if I tried and succeeded, she’d probably just get madder at me.

“Admit it,” I said, moving in, “you don’t want me to touch Talia. You don’t want me to touch anyone else. You want me with you.”

She didn’t admit it. She didn’t say a word. But her eyes drifted down my chest again and her nostrils flared.

“You hate it when I’m with other women, and not because it’s some bullshit proof to you that I’ll never be able to keep my dick in my pants. It’s because you’re jealous. Because you want me, and you don’t want anyone else to have me.”

She looked up at me and said, quietly, “No, Zane. I don’t let myself want that.”

“What? Why?”

“Because there’s no point wanting something you can never have.”

With that, she turned around and walked right off my bus—walked away from me, again.

And all my anger cooled. Instantly.

Because nothing seemed worth it when Maggie walked away from me.

Not being right or winning the fight. I never won anyway.

Neither of us really did.

Fuck.

I sighed, and went after her.

* * *

By the time I was off my bus, Maggie was already across the lot and on her bus. Shady pointed me in the right direction.

I went straight over, shirtless, walking right past Katie who was on her phone and sipping a beer outside her bus—and stared at me over the bottle.

Fucking great.

I ignored her. But I had to wonder at what point we were gonna make some dramatic scene in front of a bunch of people and everyone was gonna start realizing what was going on—and Maggie was gonna flip her shit.

Soon, I figured. At this rate… very fucking soon.

And there was a part of me that couldn’t fucking wait for it to happen.

The shit-disturber part.

And that other part… the one that wanted all this fighting shit over with. You know, so we could move on forward to other, better shit, like a hell of a lot more fucking.

I yanked the door of Maggie’s bus open, ignoring the bullshit NO DUDES sign. There was a chick sitting in the lounge, working on a laptop when I walked in. Freckles and strawberry-blonde hair. Elle’s assistant, what’s-her-name. Fucking Joanie.

“Anyone else back there?” I asked her.

“You mean, except…?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Great. Get out.”

She blinked at me, then shut her laptop and got to her feet, taking it with her. “Sure. I just need to grab my—”

“Nope.”

Her eyes went wide. The girl had been around for a few years now, but this was pretty much the longest conversation we’d ever had. And the rudest.

“Okee dokee…”

She slipped past me and out the door. I locked it behind her, then kicked off my boots and headed straight to the back of the bus.

I found Maggie in her bunk. She’d ditched her jacket and was lying on her back on top of the blanket in her sexy little dress. Before she could react I crowded in with her, lying next to her on my stomach, propped up on my elbows.

“Zane!” she hissed. “What the fuck?”

“We need to talk,” I said, calmly, my face inches from hers.

“You’re not supposed to be on here.”

“I know. The Lady Bus, right?”

“Is Joanie still out there?”

“Nope. We’re alone.” Alone enough. I knew the door was locked, but there were probably a few people who had a key.

Maggie knew it too; she glared at me. I rolled onto my back and got comfy next to her.

After a moment of silence, she sighed.

There was music playing softly in the lounge. I stared at the underside of the bunk above us, wishing I had a joint on me and wondering if there was a chance in hell Maggie would let me smoke up on her bus.

At least the weed I’d already smoked was kinda helping me mellow out—now that I’d chilled the fuck out a bit.

“What is this Sarah McLachlan-sounding shit?” I asked her.

“It’s Feist.”

“Sounds like Sarah McLachlan.”

“It sounds literally nothing like Sarah McLachlan.”

I listened for a bit. “Sounds the same to me.”

“Because you’ve probably never actually listened to Sarah McLachlan.” That was true enough. “Let me guess. You don’t like it?”

“It’s alright. But where’s the sex?”

“There’s plenty of sex in it,” she said, and I could pretty much hear her eyes roll. “You just have to listen.”

“I guess. Who really listens to this shit, though?”

“Uh, Joanie? Please tell me you weren’t rude to her.”

I left that alone. “Trust me, I’m not the only dude who’s been on this bus, Maggs.”

That was met with silence.

Then she turned her head to look at me. “What?”

“Definitely seen other dudes slipping in and out of here.” I looked at her; her face was close to mine. We were sharing one of her furry pink pillows. “You telling me you haven’t caught them yet?”

“Who?” she demanded.

“Hey, I’m not gonna cockblock a guy for no good reason. I’m just letting you know. I’m not the only one breaking the rules here. And we’ve already agreed Talia’s not getting fired, right?”

“Shit,” she muttered, putting the pieces together in her head.

“Go easy on her. And what do you expect Pete and Sophie to do, fuck on a crowded crew bus? Come on, Maggs. You shouldn’t make rules no one can follow. Just setting yourself up for disappointment.”

“Fuck.” She softened beside me, pushing a hand through her hair. “What do you want, Zane? And don’t say pussy, because I’m really not in the mood.”

“I’m not gonna say that,” I told her, honestly, and she tossed me a skeptical look. “Seems to me like we’re not getting anywhere, fighting over the same shit again and again. Am I right?”

She didn’t say anything. I was right, but she was hardly gonna admit it.

“So, why don’t we try getting along? Talk about something else. Like something we can agree on. We used to actually do that sometimes, you know.”

“Yeah. I remember.”

She didn’t go on, but she didn’t tell me to leave, so I went on.

“You’re beautiful, Maggie,” I told her, my voice soft. “You work hard. You deserve to be kissed at the end of the day. Have someone tell you how amazing you are.” I was staring at her face, and I meant every word.

“You deserve that, too,” she said quietly, but she was staring at the underside of the bunk above us when she said it. Her face looked soft and young, so pretty in the glow of the golden light, and all I wanted to do was kiss her.

So fuck it.

I leaned over and kissed her.

Her lips were soft, and I just savored the feeling. Her warm breath against my face. The smell of her and her familiar taste. I kept my tongue in my mouth and just savored her lips against mine.

Gradually, she started kissing me back.

As we kissed, I shifted my body over hers. And yeah, my dick was up. She was so soft and warm beneath me… Her hands gripped my bare arms, her nails digging in, and my body was overly-aware that I was already half-naked.

And the little gasps she made as my lips moved against hers… fuck. I hadn’t even touched her with my tongue yet.

I didn’t even bring a condom.

I didn’t come here to fuck her, but now all I wanted to do was be inside her.

I shifted my hips, moving against her, restless, looking to get comfortable and stay a while… and she spread her legs, wrapping them around my hips.

I nudged my tongue into her mouth and she opened for me, taking me deeper. Tingles prickled down my spine. My balls tightened and my dick throbbed. I moved against her slowly, dragging my rigid dick against her clit.

She moaned, low in her throat, and my dick pulsed. I was already leaking pre-come.

Shit, but I wanted to fuck her. Just bury myself in her and stay there.

I reached down between us and slid my fingers over her pussy. She was warm through her panties, they were damp, and she moaned again, rubbing into my touch.

Definite green light.

I undid my jeans. I got my cock out into my hand, and at the same time, I felt her reach down and hike up her dress. I pushed my dick down between her legs, grabbed her panties and wrenched them aside, and pushed into her.

Her head snapped back and she shuddered with pleasure. Her pussy squeezed my dick as I pumped into her… deeper…. deeper. At the same time, I managed to wriggle out of my jeans, fighting them down until they were finally off, so I could spread my knees and drive into her harder.

Maggie gasped and clutched at my ass, pulling me to her.

She didn’t push me back and roll on top or fight me for dominance like she often did.

She just spread her legs for me and took me, deep.

“Condom,” she gasped. “We need a condom.”

“Don’t have one.”

“Fuck.”

“You have one?”

“Why would I have a condom on the Lady Bus?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because,” she said, annoyed. “If I didn’t bring any on tour, I couldn’t fuck you.”

I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. “That was your plan?”

“Shut up. Don’t laugh at me while you’re fucking me.”

I reached down under her thigh and hiked it up, spreading her legs wider and holding her there, pinned, as I drove into her. “You’re right. It’s a great plan, Maggs. Really effective.”

“You didn’t bring one with you…?”

“Really didn’t think that far ahead.”

She huffed, irritated, but she didn’t tell me to stop. Not with words or her body. She just kept taking me as I drove into her, her body gradually relaxing, softening until she was moaning in a steady rhythm to match my thrusts. Her pussy was tight and silky-wet and felt so mindfucking-good against my skin… and I was gonna blow.

Yup. I was gonna blow my load for her in a matter of fucking seconds.

I didn’t even want to stop it.

I just wanted to come all over her. Mark her. Make her mine.

“You gonna come, Maggie? Before I blow…?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Yeah, don’t pull out yet…” She was trying to move her hips, so I released my grip on her thigh. I yanked down her silky dress and the bra underneath, popping her tits out. I ran my hand over them and squeezed.

“Gonna come on your tits,” I warned her, “about eight seconds…”

“Fuck…” She churned her hips as I ground into her, her pussy squeezing me tight, milking me. “Do that thing…”

I fucked her harder, jerking my hips up with each thrust, hitting her clit. “What, this thing…?” Then I pummeled her G-spot, making her breath cut off in desperate little choking sounds as her body arched beneath mine.

“Yeah,” she choked out, “there…”

I grabbed her hip again, pulled out partway and fucked her in short, hard strokes, working her from the inside-out, forcing her orgasm. I knew it was coming… Her face was flushing. Her nipples were rock-hard as her tits jiggled.

Then her pussy convulsed around my cockhead and she screamed.

I fucked her as long as I could stand, then I ripped my dick out and got up on my knees, fast.

I barely got my hand on myself before I shot off. I aimed for her chest as my cock jerked in my hand. My eyes closed and I braced myself against the wall as the spasms rocked my body. I stroked myself as I came, and suddenly Maggie’s hands were stroking me, too.

When I could see again, Maggie was panting beneath me and my come was splattered on her tits, her throat and her chin. She gazed up at me and shuddered out a long sigh.

“Fuck… sweetheart…” I lowered myself down over her. “Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life…” I kissed her soft mouth, touched my fingers to her chin and drifted them down her throat, smearing my come into her skin.

Then I sat back up and looked at her, using both hands to rub my come into her tits, smearing it over her nipples and tweaking the little rosy tips.

She shuddered, sensitive. But she was limp beneath me.

And for a moment, half-undressed and marked with my come, pinned between my knees with my cock still half-hard against her stomach, she looked up at me in total surrender. Soft, vulnerable and spent.

Mine.

Right now, there was no fight in her. She didn’t even want to run away. She didn’t want me to leave. I could see it in her gray eyes.

I could see how badly she wanted to stay right where she was.

Open to me.

Honest and exposed… stripped and dirty… done for.

That look on her face? It was the kind of shit I’d been dreaming about for eight years.

“It should be like this,” I told her, “always. You, fucking covered in my come. Your legs spread. Your pussy wet. Fucking panting and dripping and aching for me to make you come again. Begging me and screaming my name. Fucking mine.” I slid a hand up around her neck and held her, gently, by the throat, squeezing just lightly as I leaned down in her face. I brushed my lips to hers. “Make you keep coming for me… even when you don’t want to.”

But she shook her head slowly. “We can’t do this,” she said. “We can’t just keep having sex.”

“It’s not just sex.”

“It is.”

I tightened my hand around her throat a bit, holding her there. “For fuck’s sake, Maggie. Can you stop saying that? It’s not just sex.”

She pushed at me, shoved at me to get off, so I let go, shifting over to let her get up.

She sat up and looked over her shoulder at me. “It can’t be more,” she said softly, as her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Zane. I just can’t handle more.” She slipped out of the bed and stood on shaky legs, fixing her dress. She peeked out toward the front of the bus, and when she looked at me again, she looked scared and fucking sad. “I can’t handle this,” she told me, and her voice was shaky, too.

And my stomach fucking fell.

She really meant that shit.

And she wasn’t even blaming me for it.

It was the first time, ever, she didn’t put it all on me, didn’t blame me for everything going wrong. She didn’t even look mad.

“That’s not true.”

“It’s true,” she said. “Please. Get off the bus before someone sees you. I don’t want anyone to see you here. Just… please.” Her gray eyes fucking pleaded with me.

Then she disappeared into the washroom.

I sat on the side of her bed, scraping myself together. Slowly pulling my jeans back on. But my head felt broken, my brain shattered into a jumble of pieces that didn’t seem to want to reconnect. Her words had knocked all the sense out of me.

Fucking shocked me.

I can’t handle this.

She wasn’t even blaming me.

For once, Maggie wasn’t blaming me.

I’d waited for so long for her to stop blaming me. And now that she suddenly did… I didn’t know what the fuck to do.

What the fuck was I supposed to do?

If I was the problem, if I’d fucked things up, at least I had a chance of fixing it.

If Maggie was the problem… What the hell was I supposed to do to fix that?