//all you had to do was stay//

Chapter 13

John. Matty. Brenton.

One after the other. None of them ever enough. Ever right.

How does he do it? she'd once asked Ed. He's her closest male friend. Her best friend aside from Karlie really. She stood by him when he entered rehab and he's been standing by her as her marriage and life both fell apart.

He'd responded with a frustrated sigh. I don't know, Tay.

She knows his frustration is about his inability to answer her and not about her incessant questioning and wondering, no matter how vague each inquiry seems. Not yet. Some day it will be, but for now he just wraps a warm arm around her shoulder and squeezes, apologizing for his lack of Harry Insight in the only way he knows how to without verbally placating her. He doesn't spew that kind of bullshit, especially not with her.

How can he just move on like this? To one person? So completely? How is he whole enough already to do this? To devote himself again to one place, one person?

No one has the answers. No one but Harry and she's certainly not able to ask him. So she tries to sink into the background. Perfects her America's Sweetheart smile; a practiced nonchalance in the face of flashing cameras and fake reporters. And in time people stop cashing in on her heartbreak.

***

She fills her days with work, yoga, kids, and errands; her evenings with friends and building her newly re-established relationship with her mother; and her nights with books and early forays into sleep. She's not depressed. She's coping. She's moving on the only way she knows how. And so what if her love life is dead. So what if she's not dating every costar she ever has chemistry with anymore, or every musician with calloused guitar player's hands, who has a pretty way with words. That's fun, not love. She already found her soul shattering love, almost a decade ago now, on a date that resulted in at least five years of bliss before it actually did shatter her soul. She's picked up the fragments but they just don't seem to fit together anymore.

***

The media's driving her crazy. What's wrong with trying to fit herself together again? Why does she need to do that with a man in her life? She should be doing it by herself, to find herself, no matter how emo teenager that may sound. Karlie and David agree with her over their Friday night margaritas.

So she works on herself: who is Taylor Swift? She sets to figure it out. Taking on more movies. Devoting herself to her friends and family like never before. Ignoring successful and failed Harry Styles comeback in music industry, and Paige blockbusters completely lacking in plot and serious dramas worthy of Oscar nomination alike. The tabloids and media get tired of Brenton/Taylor speculations and pictures of her with Meredith or her sons at the mall or the park. She fades into media shadow.

***

She's nominated for an Grammys almost ten years into her media lull. This time, when her face graces the covers of Vogue and Vanity Fair, there's no accompanying taglines referring to Harry or Paige or anyone other than Taylor and her incredible growth from a singer into an artist. No one questions her about her failed marriage or her single ex-husband. None of the interviewers care. None of her fans want to reopen an old wound. It's like she never was an Swift-Healy, like Matty, John, Harry never entered her personal life. And the wound, that has never really closed, remains undisturbed.

When Grammy night arrives and she's announced as the winner, her tears are unquestionably joyful. Tay's smiling publicly without pretense for the first time in years.

None of the cameras pan to Harry.

***

She's surrounded by singers and songwriters at the Vanity Fair after-party: people she's known for years and worked with congratulate her heartily, and people she's admired for years and never thought she'd have the pleasure to work with are expressing their own congratulations along with their distinct desires to work with her in the future. It's so much to swallow at once. She's glad she came to the party with her son and not poor Ed or some random celebrity set-up. Her older son's eyes are alight and dreamy all at once as he meets all his idols and poses for pictures with them: the child is floating on cloud nine and Tay's glad she could make this happen for him.

She watches, beaming herself, as Elton poses with her son, teasing the boy good-naturedly.

"He's going to be the most popular boy in his school class after tonight."

She's caught off guard by the low rasping whisper of a comment and she turns her head a little more quickly than she would care to admit.

Silence seems to almost descend on the entire party. Tay knows it's just the deafening buzz suddenly blaring in her ears.

"Congratulations." Harry continues, "None of the nominees deserved this more than you."

She's struck by how sincere he is. How proud he seems. It's all too much for her in this moment, and the tears that have been close to the surface all night are no longer just joyful, but sad too. She suddenly wants to run, but it seems she's rooted to the spot, unable to dodge Harry's sudden embrace. She's hit with the overwhelming truth: this is the only place that's ever felt right to run to. It's amazing, her tears simply stop, and she's clinging to him as tightly as he to her long before she knows what's happened.

"I'm sorry. I know it's trite, but I'm sorry. I miss you. I have missed you since I left. I thought it would get easier with time... I screwed everything up."

He's whispering his atonement into her hair, mussing it from the smooth up-do with his chin as he speaks.

She pulls back, reluctantly, necessarily, stepping out of his embrace but not the light touch of his fingers on her shoulder and waist.

"Could you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?"

"I already forgave you. A long time ago."

His thumb caresses her collarbone.

"Can you ever find it in your heart to forget then?"

She's stunned. So stunned that the next questions fall out of her mouth before she even realizes she's still been carrying them around all these years, unanswered.

"How'd you do it? How were you whole enough to move on so quickly?"

He sighs sadly, averting his eyes.

"I wasn't really."

All she could do was stare at him. She'd never considered that the answer could've been that simple. That fact is sad and hopeful for her all at once.

When he finally looks at her once more his eyes are unbearably soft.

"I never did."

Thank you guys so much for reading this book and for your lovely comments. I'm not gonna delete this book. And I promise you I'll try to write better. xx