“Hilarious.”
“I just … I mean … I’m speechless. Really. I have literally nothing to say except that I have nothing to say.”
“I can’t explain it. I just want to be better. More. I’ve got a legacy, an opportunity. I’m over The Life. I’ve been watching everyone else grow up, West and Lily especially, and that’s what I want. I can give back to my father for everything he’s given to me. I can prove to myself and Maggie that I’m serious. My dad said it was about finding purpose, and I did. It’s her.”
She watched me for a moment. “All right. Then that’s that. I’ll talk to Sam. You’ll start your job on Wall Street. And we’ll wait and see what happens with Maggie.” She took a breath. “I hope you hear from her soon.”
“Me too.” The familiar ache twisted in my chest, but I smiled because I had something stronger than the hurt.
I had hope.
MEASURES
Maggie
“MAGS?” MY MOM CALLED UP the stairs, and I laid my book in my lap.
“Yeah, Mom?”
“There’s a package here for you.” I heard her climbing the stairs, and I got up just as she stepped into the doorway with curious eyes.
My brow quirked as I stood and made my way over to her and took the large envelope. The return address was from a PO Box in New York, the label printed rather than hand written.
I ripped it open curiously.
Inside was a proof copy of W Magazine in a plastic wrapper, but I couldn’t see the cover for Cooper’s letter. My heart beat so hard, I could barely hear as I took a seat on my bed and read his long, strong words that stretched across the page.
Maggie —
You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Come back to me.
I looked down at the magazine cover and could barely breathe.
Cooper hung off his sailboat with Manhattan behind him in the distance, looking right at the camera like he could see through it, into me. His smile was so bright, so lovely, the line of his arms, his hand wrapped around the rope. He was carefree and alive, and it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
A Post-It stuck out of the top, and I slipped my finger in to open the magazine to the page he had marked.
It was a full spread with an interview and several photos, one entire page filled with a shot of him looking off to the side, shirtless, hanging in the ropes of the bow, rubbing the back of his neck with that crooked smile on his lips.
In the bottom corner was a quote from the interview.
Q: So what would you say to your dream girl, if you had the chance?
A: I’ve been around the world, and I thought I’d seen everything it had to offer until that night, until I saw you. In all my life, I’d never seen anything so beautiful, not standing in the Blue Mosque or the Taj Mahal. Not in the streets of Rome or canals of Venice. Making you smile gives me life. Making you laugh gives me hope. Making you happy is all I want, other than to keep you.
A tear slipped down my cheek. His words were about me, I knew, words he’d spoken before the Hamptons, before I knew how he felt. He’d realized it long before then. Pieces flew together as I went back, back, all the way to the first night.
As scared as I’d been, even though I’d resisted him, I knew even then. I knew it from the first time he touched me. I wanted him. I needed him. And I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt something even more.
I loved him.
I touched my lips as my tears fell freely. He’d been waiting for me since that first night, waiting for me to realize it. Waiting until I saw that he was telling the truth, that I could trust him, believe him. Waiting for me to say goodbye to my past instead of running from it, instead of letting it hurt me.
I looked up at my mom, unable to speak. I handed the magazine to her, and she read it over.
“What does this mean?”
“It’s a declaration.”
“And how do you feel about him?”
I took a deep breath. “The same,” I answered quietly.
She smiled, her cheeks pink and eyes shining. “I figured. What are you gonna do about it?”
A smile stretched across my face as I wiped my tears. “Oh, I think I may have an idea.”
LIMITLESS
Maggie
I WOKE THAT MORNING FEELING whole for the first time.
My bags were packed, and my plan was set. The sun was shining, the sky a shade of cornflower blue and clouds high. It was limitless. I was limitless.
I kissed my parents goodbye at the gate. Walked through the terminal with certainty in every step, as if every single one was predestined. Like I was always meant to go back to him. As if my future had already been laid out before me — I only had to step onto the path and follow it back to him.
I’d never been so sure of anything. Not in all my life.
The plane ride back was a quiet, reverent trip that I spent looking out the window again with my headphones on. Every lyric, every song was about him, about me, about us. First stop, Jackson. Next stop, Shangri-La, M. Ward sang like he knew me.
When we landed in New York, I felt like I was home. I took the cab to Astrid’s and sat in a chair as a makeup artist buzzed around me. I put on the most beautiful dress I’d ever worn in my life and slipped into the empty backseat of the Mercedes, sharing a conspiratorial smile with Bobby. And then we zoomed through Manhattan, back to him.
HOME
Cooper
FLASHES STROBED AS I WALKED the red carpet at the Met Gala, hand in the pants pocket of my Armani suit, The Smile glued to my face, wondering where the hell Astrid was. She was late, which wasn’t unusual for her, but she wasn’t answering my texts, which was definitely unusual.
The Gala’s theme was Spellbound, and the designers and dresses didn’t disappoint. There were opulent fairy tale ball gowns, women in pantsuits inspired by period clothing, reminiscent of princes. One pop star, who was partly known for her outrageous costumes, was dressed as Rapunzel wearing a dress made out of blond hair. Her wig was connected to the dress that looked like hair wrapped around her body, peppered with flowers and braids, which was somehow not creepy. Most of the men didn’t participate like the curmudgeons we were, wearing our suits like we’d wear anywhere, though I noted far more top hats in the crowd than usual.
I paused for photos as I spanned the length of the carpet and made my way inside, straight to the bar for a scotch, pulling my phone out of my pocket to check on Astrid again as I waited for my drink. A text from her waited on my lock screen.
Hey, sorry. I’ll be there soon, held up with an emergency. Everything’s okay. I’ll explain later.