I glance at Lex and back at Maren. “It’s more of a protective thing with her, but I should’ve warned you. This is Lex, she’ll be handling the camera. Are you still comfortable with walking and talking?”
Maren glances around the area. “Definitely.” She lifts her foot. “Wore my comfy shoes.”
Lex gets her hooked up with a microphone, and before we’re about to start the walk, Maren says to me, “You must be important to Foster.”
I don’t want to kill the vibe by telling her the deal we’ve struck, but she continues on, and I’m wondering who is interviewing who here.
“No offense, but I told him no three times—more because I don’t have the time with Breelyn now—but then he went into your whole story and said I’d be an idiot for not getting on your podcast now because it’ll be the next big thing soon.” She laughs and touches my shoulder. “You know how he can be. So I said yes, and here I am.”
“Well, he’s certainly been a big help and a good friend. Thank you again for agreeing to do this.”
She gives me a knowing smile. “It’s rare to find someone who has a kind thing to say about Foster.” She takes me in, and I wonder if she sees all the feelings stirring inside me. “Anyway, I see you’re ready.” She touches my arm again. “Let’s get started. I’m an open book—nothing is off the table.”
We walk down Sheffield toward Waveland. Lex walks in front of us, changing angles. I’m glad that Maren seems okay being out in public, since it’s the basis of my show. Thankfully, it’s a workday, and the Colts have been away and don’t play home until tomorrow.
“Start wherever you want.” I prefer not to lead into our conversation with questions that will direct where the conversation goes. I want my guests to start where they think they need to because it’s usually the exact right spot whether they know it or not.
Maren slips her hands into her jean pockets. “For a long time, I thought my ex blindsided me by jilting me at the altar.”
She goes into the embarrassment and shame she felt when things didn’t work out with her ex. How she felt pressured to make it seem on socials as though they had the most magical love story, and having it exposed in such a public way was devastating. The mean comments from complete strangers who acted as if they knew them and the situation but really had no idea. How she got completely off social media—deleted all of her accounts and wanted to crawl into a hole.
“I was furious because I’d never asked for much from him,” she continues.
We pass a couple arguing softly about which street they’re supposed to get to.
“When he didn’t show up,” Maren says, “I didn’t see it coming. I thought I’d been the perfect fiancée, planning it all myself, making sure everything was perfect and documenting it every step of the way. Sure, he never seemed thrilled with the videos and stuff, but I figured that was a guy thing. He didn’t understand me chronicling our wedding planning.”
My throat tightens because I can’t imagine being dressed in your wedding gown and having all your guests there, only for the groom not to show up. It has to be the biggest embarrassment someone can go through. And to think she found a way to trust another man with her heart.
“I kept replaying it,” she adds, “wondering what I could’ve done better. And that maybe I should have been… less.” She glances at me, her gaze gentle. “But here’s the thing no one tells you, and the one thing that took me a long time to understand. Oftentimes, the people who leave were hoping you wouldn’t realize you deserved more.”
Her words sink in slow and deep.
We stop at the corner, waiting for the light to change. Cars rush past, music thumping from one of them.
“When I met Eli,” Maren goes on, her voice holding a more loving note, “it scared me. Because he was so different, and so was I. I was becoming someone I was still getting used to.” She laughs. “I turned him down at least ten times.”
We turn the corner and glance at one another. She holds my eyes for a moment.
“He showed up,” she says simply. “Every time. Not just with big bouquets and fancy restaurants. In quiet ways. He asked what I needed to feel secure in our relationship. He waited and took a step back when I said I wasn’t ready to move forward. Most of all, he never made me feel like loving me was work.”
The light turns green.
“And that’s when I realized,” she adds as we step off the curb, “the guy who wins you won’t treat loving you like a job. He’ll treat it like a privilege.”
I swallow hard. It’s clear why her fans love her so much.
We talk about her life with Eli and how having their daughter, Breelyn, is a difficult transition, but she loves being a mom—she just wishes she had more sleep. She’s raw and honest and everything I hope for when I begin one of these conversations.
“I’m really glad I said yes,” Maren says as we get closer to returning to the condo building.
My heart stutters. “Really?”
She smiles. “I’m picky with my interviews.”
“I’m honored,” I say, meaning it. “Your story… is beautiful.”
Maren slows, glancing at me. “Foster told me if I came on, I had to be honest. That you don’t tolerate any bullshit.”
