How fucking dare this man not only turn up at my house, then come here and get up on the stage like it’s a God damn welcome home party.
Maverick looks down at the floor in sheer awkwardness, before licking his lips. The music starts picking up and I instantly recognise the song he’s chosen.
Cole has every instrumental known to man when it comes to country songs. How he gets hold of them is beyond me, but right now I couldn’t give two shitsabout the inner workings of Cole’s music piracy. I take my whiskey to my lips and Maverick starts to sing.
“There’s so much going on in this town…” he begins.
Holy shit, his voice hasn’t changed.
I stumble back, placing my right hand against the bar to steady myself. The memories flooding back, hitting me worse than a wet slap.
The sound that I locked down in a tight box in my memory, sounds exactly how I remember it. My brows soften almost on impact.
People turn as if on instinct and stare at me as the lyrics pour from the man on the stage.
I recognise every face turning to look at me.
My cheeks burn with embarrassment. Over the years we’ve had a few newcomers to the town, mainly passers who come one minute, gone the next. Not even a hint they would remember us, or we would remember them at all.
But everyone in this God damn place I find myself in, knows the story.
My story.
They know I was once Maverick Bennett’s girl.
They watched me fall apart at eighteen years old when he left and never spoke to me again, and they watched the thirteen years since it happened, as I tried to piece myself back together.
“Holy shit, he’s singingSam Hunt’s – Outskirts.” Hope gasps, her eyes wide.
More people turn to stare, the majority an awkward sympathy glare. A few reassuring smiles cross some faces. What these people don’t realise is their smiles are not reassuring; they’re making my heart break more and my anger boil even harder.
My eyes burn holes into his skin. His eyes never looking away from mine. It’s like he’s forgetting that he’s singing in front of a packed dive bar.
The same dive bar in the town I live in, and I will have to keep looking these people in the eye after tonight.
He’s fine, he doesn’t live here anymore.
He wouldn’t reap the repercussions of his idiotic song choice. He’s lucky enough he can fuck back off to wherever he just came from whenever he likes. I’ll still be here, stuck in a time that people round here fail miserably to forget.
The lava boils inside, threatening to explode from my skin and the venom that’s sitting on the tip my tongue. I grip onto my whiskey glass with such strength for a second, I debate on whetherI’m going to smash it from the pressure.
I feel a hand touch me and I look over my shoulder, to find Luke giving me the same sympathetic looks everybody else is. He squeezes my shoulder, but I can’t take my eyes away from the man on the stage. I feel the tears yet again forming. As the song comes into its second verse, he untenses his shoulders and his hands relax against the microphone.
“What’s he playing at?” Iris mutters to herself, pushing her chestnut curls over her shoulder so they fall in waves down her back.
I shoot my attention back to him.
“Oh fuck, he’s doing it.” Luke leans uncomfortably against the bar.
As Maverick sings the lyrics, his eyes shoot back to me, locking into my eyes.
I’ve got to look away, the tears burning, ready to pour from my eyes and the pain in my chest too much to bear.
“I’m leaving.” I lean into Hope and Iris.
The looks I receive back from them say they understand and they offer a sympathetic smile.
“I can’t watch this shit anymore.” Wrong, your heart can’t take this shit anymore.
