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Authors: Stella Rose

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BOOK: Among Wildflowers
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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Macy ran to the window
and looked down at the street. She gasped when she saw all the paparazzi outside. She waited for Ryland to appear, but he must have left through the back to avoid them. She sat back down at the kitchen table and let the tears come. She had known it was only a matter of time before Ryland would figure out just how bad she was for him. And now he knew. She was ruining his life and she’d never felt so ashamed of herself. Not even after the photo-shoot incident. She knew it was because she’d fallen in love with Ryland. Deeply in love. And now she’d ruined that. Just like she did everything in her life.

There was a knock at the door and Lane barged in. “What the fuck, Macy?”

“I don’t know what to say, Lane.”

He threw a magazine on the table in front of her. The headline read,
QUINN FINDS ROMANCE AGAIN WITH ALCOHOLIC FERRIS AFTER TRAGIC LOSS.

“Oh my God,” she said. “This is a disaster.”

“This is beyond a disaster. Brandon is freaking out.”

“I know. He called. I’m fired.”

“Macy,” he said, sitting across from her. “That’s the least of your troubles. Do you understand that?” He flipped through the magazine until he found the page he was looking for. “Do you want to explain this?”

Macy craned her neck to see what he was pointing to. It was a picture of Macy and Ryland kissing outside the bar. The moment she had cherished so deeply within her heart was now being used as a weapon against them.

“Want to hear some?” Lane asked, picking up the magazine.

“Not particularly.”

“Too bad,” he said. “Macy Ferris, the celebrity photographer who famously had a psychiatric breakdown during a high-profile photo shoot, was spotted at a local bar called Little Branch. Sources say the two were drinking heavily until they went outside where they were seen kissing for an extended period of time before leaving
together.”

Macy couldn’t seem to force any words to come out. She just shook her head, covering her face with her hands.

“Drinking heavily. Were you?”

“Of course not!” Macy cried.

“Then why the hell were you at a bar? God, Macy. Aren’t you sick of fucking your life up yet?”

She sobbed. “Of course I am. I didn’t drink, though. I’m not going to lie to you, Lane. I did consider it. That’s why I was there. I even ordered a drink. But I didn’t touch it. Ryland found me there and he talked some sense into me. He wanted me to know how much he supported me and my sobriety. That’s when we kissed. I love him, Lane.”

“How do you know? You barely know him. You love the idea that someone actually cares about you. That’s what you love.”

“Fuck you, Lane.”

“I’m just telling you the truth. You’re in denial, Macy. Look at yourself.” Lane looked around the apartment, noticing the unmade bed. “Did you two screw last night? Are you that desperate for validation, Macy?”

“Get the hell out of my apartment,” Macy yelled, standing up. “Get out!”

“Fine. But you’re on your own. Just when you start to get your shit together, you do something else to bring yourself down again. I don’t know, maybe that’s what you want.”

“Get out.”

Macy threw the empty mug at Lane, but he ducked out the door just fast enough to get it shut before the mug hit, shattering into tiny
pieces.

She squinted through her puffy eyes as she found the remote and flipped the TV on again. She gasped when she saw Ben’s face on the screen.

“Yes, um, I saw her here at this bar.” He motioned to Little Branch behind him. “She and Ryland Quinn were doing shots, one after the other. They were laughing and carrying on, disrupting the other patrons. Eventually they were asked to leave and they did, but then they started making out right here, which is when I took a photo of them.”

The reporter nodded. “And tell us how you know Macy Ferris? You said you know her personally?”

“Yes, I do. We were close friends. I met her at Alcoholics Anonymous, but lately she just hasn’t seemed very committed to staying sober. When I heard she was planning on coming here to the bar, I came to stop her from drinking. I wanted to help.” He shook his head sadly. “But it was too late, she was already drunk. I tried to talk to her, but she didn’t want to hear it. She said she just didn’t care anymore.”

“Terrible,” she reporter said. “And what did she tell you about Ryland’s deceased girlfriend?”

“Oh, she said that Ryland told her that he had a secret lover that he never told anyone about. She said that Ryland wanted to use Macy to forget about this other girl who was the love of his life or something.”

“I see, tragic. Thank you so much for talking with us.”

The screen cut from the onsite reporter to the news room.

“Thank you, Stacy. Earlier today we caught a glimpse of Ferris’ ex, Logan Tanner, but he didn’t want to speak to reporters.”

Suddenly, Logan appeared, trying to cover his face with a newspaper as he was walking into work.

“No comment.”

“Logan, Logan, did you know that Macy fell of the wagon? Have you talked to her?”

“No, I haven’t talked to her since I broke up with her, but it’s doesn’t surprise me. No further comments.”

“That’s all we have right now on this story, but we’ll update you as new information comes in. Next, Britney Spears was spotted at an
LA club with new boyfriend—”

She flipped off the TV.
Shit.
She’d really screwed up now. There was
no
coming back from this. Her life was over. Job: gone.
Reputation as a photographer: gone. Lane’s friendship: gone. Ryland... that was definitely over. He hated her. But he couldn’t possibly hate her any more that Macy hated herself.

***

“How did this happen?” Michael paced the hotel room. “How did they find out about Isabelle?”

“I don’t know for sure. Macy said that she mentioned something to someone in her AA group about me, but without telling them my name. She said it was an indirect comment about me, but they must
have put two and two together. I don’t think she meant to do it. She said it was an accident, and I believe her.” Ryland sat on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees, his feet anxiously tapping the
floor.

“Are you sure?” Michael asked.

Ryland looked at Michael. “Yes. She was as shocked as I was to see it. She didn’t mean to do it,” he said again. “This was my nightmare. I never wanted anyone to know about her...It’s not right what they’re saying.”

“It’s a goddamned shit storm, is what it is. The media is all over you. This is the kind of shit they live for. They’re going to make it out that Isabelle was the love of your life who died tragically before her time, and Macy is the train wreck alcoholic that you’re trying to replace her with. They’re going to make it look like you’ve gone off the deep end with grief, and Macy is dragging you down a path of destruction.”

“But that’s not true! Whoever that asshole is that they interviewed is a spineless liar trying to make a buck off the
paparazzi. Every single thing that came out of his mouth was a lie.”

“I know, but the public doesn’t know that. They’re eating this up.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“We have no choice. We’re going to have to come clean about
Isabelle.”

“No.” Ryland stood. “We’re not doing that. It’s no one’s business.”

“I know it’s not,” Michael said. “I loved Isabelle, too. But if we don’t take it head-on at this point, they’re going to tarnish your image, Macy’s image, and worst of all, Isabelle’s memory.”

Ryland knew Michael was right, but it hurt just too damned much. Sinking back down onto the bed, he put his head in his hands.

Michael sat beside him. “It’s going to be alright. We’ll figure this out.”

Ryland nodded, unable to speak. The thing he had managed to avoid for two whole years had finally surfaced, and it was so much worse than he had expected.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Macy’s cell wouldn’t stop ringing,
so she shut it off and tossed it in her purse and then curled up onto the couch. She couldn’t watch the TV anymore. She just wanted the world to go away. How would she afford her apartment without her job? She’d never be able to get another job now. Her career was over. She just hoped Ryland could salvage his. She’d pulled him down with her, just like she knew she would.

Wringing her hands together, she paced back and forth around her apartment. She didn’t know what to do, what to think. Life was falling apart rapidly and she couldn’t seem to hang on. She blamed herself for everything that had happened, for losing her head, for falling in love with Ryland... for letting him fall in love with her. She wasn’t even sure if he felt that strongly about her. She thought that maybe he did, but he’d never said it. But that didn’t matter anymore.

Ben
.
That son of a bitch
. She had to talk to him. She needed to see him face to face and find out why he would say such awful things. Grabbing her purse and keys, she headed out the door and took the stairs down to the garage in hope of avoiding the paparazzi. She pushed open the heavy metal door that led to the street and was instantly bombarded with cameras and reporters.

“Macy! Macy! Are you going back to rehab?” Camera bulbs were going off in every direction, and she couldn’t even tell who was talking to her. “How’s Ryland? Are you two a couple now?”

“No comment,” she said, but it was useless.

“Did you know Isabelle?”

“No comment!” she yelled.

“Are you going to go see Ryland right now?”

“No, leave me alone!” she said as she hailed a cab. As soon as the car came to a stop, she jerked the door open and jumped inside and gave the driver the address for the place where the AA meetings were held.

Macy fidgeted restlessly in the back as the driver fought his way through traffic. Eventually, he pulled up to the curb, and Macy clumsily shoved some cash in his hand and hopped out.

“Macy!” Jackie grabbed her arm the moment Macy stepped inside the small, dimly lit building, locking the door behind them. “What the hell is happening?”

“I don’t know. I messed up, Jackie.”

“Come on, come into my office.” Jackie shut the door and then motioned to a seat by her desk. “What is going on? The news—”

“Lies. It’s all lies.”

“But I saw pictures of you…”

Macy put her hand up. “No... I mean the part where Ryland and I were at the bar is true. I did go there. I thought about drinking. I really did. I made my usual order: a beer with two shots of whiskey on the side. I stared at it. I just sat there and stared.”

“Macy, slow down. It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry, I-I know I’m babbling, but everything is just so screwed up, Jackie.”

“So what happened after you ordered your drinks, Macy?”

“Ryland showed up.” She smiled and shook her head as she thought of it. “He’d remembered that I told him I used to go there. He... talked me down, I guess you could say. So I didn’t drink. Then we left the bar together and…”

“And?”

“He told me how much he cared about me. He told me I was good for him. It’s not true, of course, but it was such a sweet thing to say. Then we kissed.”

“So... you didn’t fall off the wagon? You’re okay?”

“No. I’m definitely not okay. Everything is falling apart. Ryland hates me. Ben made up all these lies about us. It’s an awful mess. But no, I didn’t fall off the wagon.”

“I saw him on the news. Why would he say such terrible
things?”

“I don’t know. We were good friends at Tall Oaks. He always seemed so nice. Then he called me up while I was out at Ryland’s ranch… then he showed up… here...” Macy’s voice trailed off as she began to put the pieces together. “He’s been following me since Tall Oaks. Maybe he got mad when he saw Ryland and me together.” Macy jumped up from her seat and raced to the office door, yanking it open.

“What are you going to do?” Jackie said, getting to her feet.

“I need to talk to Ben,” Macy said. “Is he here?”

“No, he’s not. Maybe on our meeting night…”

“No, I have to talk to him now. I have to ask him why he would say those things.”

“Macy, slow down.” Jackie grabbed her arm. “You have to stop. It doesn’t matter why he said those things. What matters is that you bring yourself down. Find your peace.”

“I can’t find my peace until I find Ben.”

“You wanted to talk to me?” Ben appeared in the doorway. “You don’t want to go out there,” he said, closing the door soundly behind him. “Paparazzi are crawling all over the place.”

“There were no paparazzi when I got here. Why are they here now?” Macy said between clenched teeth.

Ben shrugged, a smile playing across his lips. “Don’t know. They must have been tipped off.”

“Why? Why are you doing this?” Macy asked.

“You were so caught up in your own head that you didn’t even notice that I followed you to the bar, did you?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You didn’t notice that I sat near you, watched you?” Ben looked hurt.

Macy would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so dreadful. “Why? Why did you follow me there? Why were you watching me?”

“We had a connection when we met. Didn’t you feel it? We leaned on each other so much at Tall Oaks. I knew that I had to find you again. Macy, did you like the flowers I sent you?”

Macy covered her heart with her hand and grimaced. “You sent those?”

“I thought you’d like them.”

“Holy shit, Ben. This is some crazy stalker talk—” Jackie interrupted.

Macy held up her hand. “What the hell are you talking about? Feel what?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel it. It’s so strong. I knew at Tall Oaks that we belonged together.”

“Ben, stop. Why did you say those awful things to the press? You lied about everything.”

“I’m trying to help you, Macy. Can’t you see that? I’m trying to help you. Ryland is only going to be a risk to your sobriety. He doesn’t understand what you’re going through. I do. Let me help.” He reached for Macy but she backed away, running into Jackie.

“No, you’re wrong. Ryland’s not a risk. He was the only thing that was holding me together, and you ruined it!”

“Macy, just listen. I can help you,” Ben said, reaching for her again.

“Buddy, you need to get the hell out of here,” Jackie said, putting her hands on Macy’s shoulders.

Ben laughed. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m trying to save you from yourself, Macy. Why won’t you just accept the help I’m offering?”

“I can’t handle this,” Macy said, shoving past Ben.

“Macy, where are you going? Stay here,” Jackie said. “It’s safe here.”

“No, not with him here. I need to go. Now.”

She opened the door, stepping out into the flashing lights of the paparazzi. She fought through the crowd, ignoring the onslaught of questions, and hailed a cab. She was on the edge and could feel herself slipping away. She had to get away. Get away from the photographers. Get away from New York City. But most of all, get away from everything that reminded her of Ryland.

***

Michael dropped Ryland off two blocks down the street from Macy’s apartment. Dressed in plain street clothes and wearing a baseball
cap, Ryland snuck through the alleyway beside the apartment
building and used the side door, thankfully avoiding the paparazzi. He took the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding. She must be a mess with everything that was going on with the press, and his sudden departure this morning wouldn’t have helped. He felt horrible for having acted that way. He should never have left her alone. He should have been stronger. He’d known that one day the press would find out about Isabelle, but it had hit him so much harder than he had expected.

Finally, he made it to her floor, out of breath and panting. He knocked softly. No answer. He knocked louder, putting his ear to the
door.

“Macy? Macy, are you home? Open the door, it’s just me.”

No response.

“Shit,” he said under his breath. Then he jiggled the door handle, the door opened and swung wide. “What the hell?”

Ryland stepped into the apartment to find the entire place emptied. He frantically began opening closets and cupboards. Gone. Everything was gone. The only things that remained in the room were the couch and the bed, which had been stripped.

“No, Macy, no!” he cried, slamming his fist down onto the countertop. As he made his way through the kitchen his foot crunched over something. He looked down and noticed white glass shards had been swept into the corner. Dread crept through him quickly as he wondered what had happened after he left and why Macy had abandoned her new apartment.

He yanked open the cupboard beneath the sink and pulled out the small plastic trashcan. No beer bottles. No whiskey bottles. Nothing that shouldn’t be there. He let out a breath of relief. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed her number for what must have been the tenth time that day. Straight to voicemail and her voice mailbox was full. He swore under his breath. Where had she gone? She wouldn’t go to Logan’s, he felt confident of that. He pulled his wallet out and found Lane’s business card and quickly dialed his number. Just as Macy’s did, it went straight to voicemail and the voicemail was full.

“Shit!” he yelled, raking his hand through his hair.

Where would she go?

***

“Thank you,” Macy said politely as the flight attendant handed her a drink.

Macy had kept her sunglasses on for fear of someone recognizing her. She wasn’t usually one of those crazy people that
kept her sunglasses on indoors, but it was better than the alternative.

Letting her head fall back against the seat, Macy closed her eyes. Piece by piece, she began inspecting the events of her life. She’d always loved Aunt Suzy. Aunt Suzy had been kind and sweet to Macy, accepting her into her home without a second thought. But it wasn’t until recently that Macy really understood her aunt, understood that every single thing that Aunt Suzy did was a carefully calculated move to make Macy’s life better. To help Macy work through her demons and come out on the other side safely. Aunt Suzy was always trying her best to give Macy the tools she needed to make it through, and Macy kept throwing them away, over and over.

Macy pulled her photo album out of her carry-on and opened it. Slowly, she went through the pages one by one, watching herself go from a little girl to a college student at Brown University.

“That is a beautiful album,” the older woman beside her said.

Macy smiled at the woman. “Thank you. My aunt made it for me before she died.”

The woman reached over to pat Macy on the arm. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sure she was a nice lady. She must have been very talented to make this. The flowers pressed into the pages are stunning.”

“Yes, she was a gifted artist. She made lots of beautiful things.”

The woman smiled, nodding, before going back to her book.

Macy continued to go through the book, the pictures reminding her of things her aunt had said or done over the years, regret growing inside her heart that she had missed the messages. Regret that she was too consumed within herself to understand what Aunt Suzy was trying to tell her all that time. Now that she’d got it, it was too late.

As she got to the last page, she ran her fingers over a small piece of paper on which Suzy had drawn a single, brightly colored sunflower that was tucked beside one of the photos. Macy pulled the tiny drawing out and held it in her hands, feeling the tiny indentations from the pens she had used through the paper. Flipping it over in her hand she noticed that something was written on the back. When she realized what it was, she had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from crying.

 

Macy,

There are always flowers for those who wish to see them.

Don’t forget to carry my love with you wherever you go,

Aunt Suzy

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