Worthy of the Harmony (Mountains & Men Book 2) (37 page)

I need that—I need her. I need the promise of my girl being here when I get back. She knows me. She sees me—
now
. She sees me
now
as
just Sage—
the pianist who dreams of singing rock music all over the world. I’m
her dream chaser.
She said that—I own that. And if she thinks for one second that the idea of being on the road bagging a groupie night after night—
hell,
bagging
ten
groupies night after night—if she thinks that I want that more than I want her, she’s not nearly as smart as I thought she was.

I WATCH HIM AS
he rakes his fingers through his hair, looking at me with a desperation that mirrors my own. I knew this would happen—knew he would fight—but I thought I could be stronger than this.

I need to be stronger than this.

“Sage, please, just go,” I whimper. “Let’s just do this now instead of later when it’ll hurt so much more.”

“Or we could
not
do this! Millie—you’re writing our future as if you see it so clearly. Baby, don’t write our ending when we’ve barely scratched the surface of our beginning.”

I bring a hand to my chest, pressing down hard in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure that seems to be building there. Every time he speaks, a surge of panic rushes through me, making it difficult for me to even
think
about breathing. I wonder if I can still be me if I push away the one person who matters the most to me. I wonder if I can still be
Millicent
without my heart.

“Millicent,” he whispers, reaching for me.

I don’t fight him when he slips his arms around me, or when he lines his lips up with mine, or when he kisses me gently. I don’t fight him because I’m just as weak as my mother said I was. I
can’t
fight him because I belong to him—I have since that very first night when he sang to me in bed.

You know nothing of the price of love
.

My mother’s words reverberate through my head, pulling me from this intimate moment, thrusting me toward the unwelcome memory that only reminds me of my pain. Pain that I’ve known for what feels like my whole life. Pain that I’ve carried with me in the name of love.
Pain
that I know will
pale
in comparison to the damage that will come from loving Sage.

My mother was wrong. I know
exactly
how much love costs. I know because I’m in love with Sage—truly, madly, stupidly in love with him. Yet, in the same breath, I know that I cannot deviate from my plan.

I push him away, shoving my hands against his chest as I step out of his arms. I draw in a deep breath, needing the air to help clear my head. I cannot forget why this is the best way—the only way. I open my mouth to speak, but Sage beats me to it.

“I’ll stand here all night and you know it. We’re not breaking up unless you can convince me it’s because you want nothing to do with me, and after that kiss—you’ve got a long way to go before I believe that shit.”

“This is not about how I feel,” I say, shaking my head at him. “This is bigger than that.”

“
No,
it’s not. This is stupid and you know it. I’m your guy and you’re my girl, remember?” He takes my hands in his, lacing our fingers together as he takes a step closer to me. “We agreed.”

I try shaking out of his grasp, but he grips me tighter. “Sage—let me go.”

“No.”

“You’re not going to change my mind. We’re over. And you can stand here all night if you want, but we
both
know you have someplace to be in the morning. You won’t stand up the guys for me.”

His grip suddenly loosens and his head jerks back in surprise. “Is that what you want? Are you telling me to choose?”

I cough out a sigh of frustration, my eyes filling with fresh tears as my chest fills with an ache I cannot describe. “
Never!
I would never ask you to choose and you
know
that!”

“Then what? What the fuck, Millie? What do you want from me?”

“I want to know that you won’t break my heart into a million little pieces!” I yell, unable to control myself. “But you can’t promise me that you won’t. Or maybe you
think
you can, but—”

“Millie—do you hear yourself right now? I can’t promise that I’ll never hurt you anymore than you can promise that you’ll never hurt me. Relationships don’t work that way. Nobody is perfect. But I’m here, baby. I’ve always been
right here
.”

I sigh, reaching up to bury my fingers in my hair. “That’s just it, Sage. You’re leaving. You’re not going to be
here
anymore.”

“It’s only six weeks—”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” I let my arms drop as I begin pacing back and forth in front of him, wishing that this wasn’t so hard. Wishing that he would just put me out of my misery and
leave
. “You say you’re my guy, but you aren’t. I saw it, baby—” The term of endearment falls from my lips without a second thought, sending a pang of longing through my hollow chest. “I saw it, at The Fillmore. I saw you in a whole new light. It was like watching you perform—seeing the audience from your vantage point—it all made sense.
They
are who you’ve been fighting for.
They
are who you’ve been chasing after.
They
are who you belong to.”

“Baby doll.” He stops me from pacing, pulling me into his arms once more. He holds me close, staring into my eyes with a fierceness the likes of which I have never seen. It makes my knees weak and my stomach flutter and I’m powerless against him. “I sing
to
them. I sing
with
them. But I sing
about
you. I sing
for
you. They don’t own me. They’ll never own me. That’s not why I do what I do and I never want it to be. The second it becomes all about them is when I lose my integrity—when I lose
myself,
my
music.
I don’t belong to them anymore than they belong to me.

“But
you
…I
belong
to you. Do you know how I know that?”

“How?” I breathe.

“Because I love you, Millicent—I’m in love with you.”

His declaration is like a bucket of ice water poured over my head. In an instant, the spell he casts with his icy blue eyes is broken and my strength is renewed. I shove him
hard
. I know he’s not expecting it because he stumbles away from me, stepping back into the hallway. The look on his face speaks of his bewilderment, but I don’t give a shit.

“You don’t get to say those words to me,” I tell him, pointing an accusatory finger at his chest. “Not today. Not now. Not because you think it’ll change my mind. Not when you’ll be leaving in fourteen hours. You don’t get to say those words to me!” Every word that falls from my lips comes out louder and louder until I’m yelling, infuriated with him for using those words against me.

“Millicent—that’s not a fucking line. I mean it,” he argues.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then I’ll say it again. I—”

I reach up and press my fingers against his mouth before I mutter, “Don’t you fucking dare.” He narrows his eyes at me, whether it’s because I’ve silenced him or because I’ve silenced him with his own phrase, I don’t know. I don’t care, either. I don’t want to hear it. Not again. Not now.

Not like this!

It kills me that he’s chosen now to say the words that are poised on the tip of my tongue. It kills me that I cannot repeat them back to him. It kills me that he might mean them and he might not and I don’t know which to believe. It just
kills
me.

“You need to go. Now. Please, leave.”

“Millie—”

“I mean it, Sage. I can’t do this anymore.”

Before I change my mind, and before he can act to stop me, I step back and slam the door in his face.

“The fuck!” he cries, clapping his hand against the barrier that now stands between us. “Millicent, open the damn door.”

“No!” I cry in return, locking the deadbolt for good measure.

“Baby, I lo—”

“Don’t say it!” I yell, stomping my foot like an enraged child.

He goes silent and I listen closely so that I might hear his next move. He doesn’t leave. Instead, I hear the
thump
of his head as he presses it against the door. For a moment, neither of us says another word. Knowing he’s so close, yet so far away, makes the longing in my chest almost unbearable. I reach up, placing both palms against the door, knowing this is as close as I can get.

“Millie,” he murmurs.

I think back to a few minutes ago, when he told me he’d stand here all night fighting for me.
That
I believe.
That
is a declaration I can hold onto—but his love? To believe that right here, right now, on the eve of his departure…

“Six weeks,” I say softly.

“What?”

“If you mean those words in six weeks—” I pause, sure that he won’t. I pause, knowing that I’m stupid for believing that there may be the tiniest possibility… “If you mean those words in six weeks,” I continue, “then I want to hear them. But if you don’t—I don’t want to speak to you again.”

“Millicent—”

“Go, Sage,” I barely manage as a knot fills my throat. “Just—please. Go.”

I don’t know how long we stand on opposite sides of the door, neither of us moving, before I feel a
thud
that makes me jump. Then, in a low voice I can hardly hear, he says, “This isn’t over, doll face.”

His voice is followed by the sound of his footsteps as they descend the stairs. When I hear the front door of the building slam shut, I know he’s gone.

I LOVE YOU, MILLICENT
.

I want so badly to go back. Suddenly, I want to hear him say the words again. I want to be in that moment when the words that mean too much to me fell from his lips. I want to live in that pocket of time when he was sure that those were the only words that would save him. Most of all, I want to believe him.

Instead, I’m here. Alone. Curled up on the couch, shedding silent tears. I’m here, afraid that I will never speak to him again. It is what I told him—it was my desperate plea when I knew not what to believe.
Repeat the words or utter no others.
Now, as I drown in the silence of his absence, all I can think about is the reality that led me here in the first place.

I gave him my heart when he wasn’t supposed to have it. I fell in love with him, knowing that it would destroy me. They always leave—that is my truth, that is my story, and Sage would have been no different. He thinks he is the exception to my rule. My
dreamer
. But I live in a world he does not know—a world that he does not understand—a reality where dreams don’t come true and love doesn’t fix anything because love doesn’t last.

He took my heart, but I don’t wish for him to return it. I’m probably better off without it. Now, there is no fear that I will fall in love again, having sacrificed every last piece to his name. There is only one Sage Lawrence McCoy and I don’t want another. I made him leave. I forced my hand. It was going to happen anyway, I just made it happen sooner. Now, I don’t have to watch the man I love slip away. I don’t have to worry about what the next six weeks will mean for us, because there is no us. Not anymore. He will go where his music takes him, just as he was meant to, and I will watch from afar.