I guess I could tell him that he didn’t need to worry. That I had no intention of being that girl. That I would never allow myself to become so consumed by Clay again that I lost sight of everything else. The older and wiser Maggie should definitely be saying all of those things.
But I stayed quiet. Because even I knew that the hold Clay had on my heart wasn’t rational and it wasn’t gentle. It was a vicious tug that threatened to rip the beating organ straight out of my chest.
Seeing him again had only confirmed what my subconscious already knew. I would never move on from Clay. My soul belonged with him, was so entangled in him that I was no longer a single being.
I had at one time wondered whether it was a good thing. Whether loving someone like that was healthy for either of us. I still wasn’t entirely sure but I was tired of trying to deny something that was as natural to me as breathing. I loved Clayton Reed and no amount of time or distance would ever take that away from me.
That didn’t change the reality of where we found ourselves. Our relationship had been toxic and detrimental to both of us. I had learned that you could love someone entirely but not necessarily be with them. And that’s where the new Maggie came out to play. Because for once I wasn’t letting my feelings rule me. I was trying to let my head have as much of a say as my heart.
We pulled up in front of Ruby’s house five minutes later. There were several cars there already and I felt a bit strange walking up to the house. Rachel was close behind me, Daniel purposefully trailing after her. I knocked on the door and waited. I could hear people talking inside.
Finally the door was opened by someone I didn’t recognize. “Hi, I’m Maggie. And this is Rachel and Daniel. We’re…uh, Clay’s friends,” I stuttered out. The older woman smiled and held the screen door open, motioning us to come inside.
“I’m glad you could come. I’m Darla, Lisa’s sister.” Looking at her, I could see the same straight nose and square jaw. I gave her a tight smile and followed her into the kitchen. I looked around but didn’t see anyone I knew. I saw an older couple surrounded by a group of people and assumed they were Lisa’s parents. But Ruby and Clay were conspicuously absent from the gathering.
“Well, what should we do? We don’t know any of these people,” Rachel said nervously. I picked up a few paper plates and handed them to my friends.
“I say we eat first. That’s usually a good place to start,” I remarked dryly. Daniel and Rachel took their plates and loaded up with food. I kept looking around the room, trying to locate either Ruby or Clay. It was strange that neither was anywhere around.
After filling up our plates, we found a spot in the living room. Sitting on the couch, I noticed a pair of glasses and a coffee mug sitting on the table in front of me. My throat closed up when I realized they were Lisa’s.
A few of Lisa’s family members came over and introduced themselves. I asked where Ruby and Clay were but no one seemed to know. After we ate our food, I got to my feet. Daniel and Rachel looked extremely uncomfortable and I felt bad for dragging them here.
“Guys, I’m going to go see if I can find Ruby. Then we can go, alright?” Giving them credit, they both tried to hide their relief, but I saw it all the same.
I tossed our plates in the trash and then started to look for Ruby. Her house wasn’t that big, so there weren’t many places for her to go. I headed up stairs, looking in her bedroom. She wasn’t there. I stopped outside the door at the end of the hallway and froze.
I put my hand on the doorknob but didn’t turn it. It felt cool in my hand and I tightened my grip around it. I wasn’t sure I could go in. But without giving myself time to think about it too much I pushed open the door and was hit by a wave of stale air.
It was exactly the same as the last time I was in here. Clay’s bed was made and untouched. Was he not staying in here then? I stepped inside and looked around. The blinds were drawn and it was so dark I could barely see. I walked across the room and turned on the lamp that sat on his desk.
Light flooded the room and I blinked as my eyes adjusted. A thin layer of dust sat on everything, as though no one had been inside since he left. Aside from the pictures that were missing on his wall, the ones I had taken after, everything was the same.
I sat down on the bed and let my hands drop limply between my knees. What was I doing here? I felt like I was chasing a ghost. Looking for something that I had lost a long time ago. But my earlier revelations held true. I couldn’t let go of him. I wouldn’t let go of him.
I felt him before I saw him. “What are you doing in here?” I looked up at the sharp tone of his voice. Clay stood in the doorway, not moving. His face was pale and drawn; his dark hair wildly tussled from his anxious fingers. His eyes were tired as they watched me warily. He looked at me as though I were invading his privacy.
Which sort of pissed me off. When had we become strangers? When had we stopped being able to read each other? Because now, staring at him, I wasn’t sure what to expect. And the way he was looking at me set me on edge.
I didn’t get to my feet. Maybe I should get out, but I was feeling oppositionally defiant and I kept my butt right where it was. “Looking for you,” I told him honestly. Clay frowned, still not moving into the room.
He seemed hesitant to step into the space that had once been his. “Are you not staying in here?” I asked, swiping my finger along the bedside table, and then wiping the dust away.
“No, I’ve been sleeping on the couch,” Clay admitted, watching me as I ran my hand down the blue comforter, touching his pillows, smoothing the sheets.
“Why?” I asked him, turning to look at him. Clay shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest as though shielding himself. From me? That was crazy. If anyone should be protecting themselves, it should be me.
“I didn’t think I could sleep in here.” He looked around the room, clearly taking it all in for the first time since he had left. “Too many memories,” he whispered, more to himself than to me.
“I understand about wanting to hide from memories,” I said bitterly. I turned my back to him and picked up the sketch book still on the table. I leafed through the pages leisurely, taking my time. Trying not to get choked up by the pictures inside. So many of them I remembered him drawing. Back when our lives were infinitely more complicated but in some twisted way, much happier.
I hadn’t realized Clay had come into the room until I felt the bed dip. I felt the heat of his body beside me. We weren’t touching; the air between us much wider than it ever would have been before. But it was still the closest we had been in three months. I bit down on my lip to stop myself from sobbing at the relief of seeing him again. Of being near him.