Chapter 12

12

MCKENNA

M cKenna stared at her phone in disbelief, the glowing screen illuminating the chaos of her thoughts. How could Mazey just end things over a text message? After an incredible night filled with laughter, intimacy, and promises of a future, it felt like a punch to the gut. This was exactly how she imagined a Hollywood diva would handle a situation: impersonal, cold, and callous. McKenna had wanted to believe that Mazey was different, that their connection was real, but now, she couldn't shake the feeling that maybe she was just a fleeting experiment, a chapter in Mazey's life that she could easily close.

She tried to calm herself, but the whirlwind of emotions was overwhelming. McKenna turned on the TV and switched to the entertainment channel, hoping to distract herself. The reporter was in the middle of speculating about Mazey Snow’s sudden disappearance from the public eye.

“Is she having a fling with a hunky firefighter? Could this be her new boo?”

The words felt like daggers. Seeing Mazey’s face on the screen was painful, a reminder of the warmth and affection they had shared. Deep down, McKenna wanted to believe that the woman she had spent time with, the one who had made her laugh and feel alive, was still in there somewhere. Maybe this was just a moment of panic for Mazey, a reaction to the pressures of her fame and the overwhelming scrutiny she faced.

But as the minutes ticked by, McKenna realized she couldn’t be alone with her thoughts any longer. The self-doubt and confusion were too much to bear. She needed to talk to someone, to get a fresh perspective, to figure out if there was still hope for her and Mazey.

Without hesitation, she picked up her phone and called Ember.

“Yo, McKenna! What’s going on? Is everything alright?” “Can I come over and talk? I’m going crazy,” McKenna admitted, her voice trembling.

“Of course! I’m at the garage. Drop by anytime,” Ember replied, her tone instantly reassuring.

“Okay. I’m on my way,” McKenna said, feeling a flicker of hope igniting in her chest.

She drove over to Ember’s garage, her mind racing with questions and doubts. She hoped that Ember had some magical words that would make her feel better, whether it was the push she needed to move on from Mazey or something to cling to, giving her a glimmer of hope. But deep down, McKenna knew she didn’t really know what she wanted.

In the past, she hadn’t cared so much about her previous partners. Whether they were closeted or too afraid to come out didn’t matter; she had been able to compartmentalize her feelings. But this felt different. This was Mazey, someone who had sparked a fire in her heart, and she found herself clinging to the hope that their connection was genuine. The thought of being just another secret for Mazey was almost unbearable. What if Mazey had just had a change of heart? What if she realized she didn’t want to be with McKenna after all?

As she pulled up to the garage, McKenna took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her. She stepped out of her car and walked toward the entrance, where the sounds of machinery and laughter filled the air. Ember was working on a car, her hands covered in grease, but she looked up and smiled when she saw McKenna.

“Hey, you okay?” Ember asked, wiping her hands on a rag and setting it aside.

“No, not really,” McKenna admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Come on, let’s talk,” Ember said, leading her to a more secluded corner of the garage.

They settled onto a pair of worn-out stools, and Ember leaned in, her eyes searching McKenna’s face for answers. “What happened?”

“It’s Mazey,” McKenna said, her voice cracking. “She ended things over a text. I don’t even know what to think.”

“Yeah, I got a message from Josephine this morning,” Ember said, her brow furrowed with concern as she leaned against the workbench. “She heard some nurses gossiping about it at the hospital. I’m sure Mazey’s freaking out right now. But I didn’t think she would just end things with you.”

“Yeah, I didn’t either,” McKenna replied, frustration tightening her chest. “You know I really liked her. I’ve never felt that way about anyone before. It seemed like we had a real connection. Especially last night. I mean, all of us together. It felt so right.”

Ember crossed her arms, contemplating McKenna’s words. “Mazey seemed like she liked you a lot. Do you really think she would give it up over a tiny scandal?”

McKenna sighed, dragging a hand through her hair. “I mean, from the beginning, she talked about how important this new netflix show was for her and that she couldn’t let anything get in her way. I don’t think someone she met recently is going to deter her from making all her dreams come true. And who knows? Maybe I was just an experiment for her.”

“Hey, don’t think that way,” Ember said firmly, stepping closer to McKenna. “All it’s going to do is hurt you. You need to remember that Mazey lives in a completely different world from us. We live in a community that embraces who we are and doesn’t scrutinize us. Our world is woman-dominated. Hers isn’t. It’s a really big decision she needs to make, and it could take her some time to come to realize what’s really important.”

McKenna nodded slowly, processing Ember’s words. “I get that, but it’s just…hard. I don’t want to be a secret or some fling she can easily toss aside. I thought we had something real, something that could last.”

Ember reached out and squeezed McKenna’s shoulder, a gesture of comfort. “You’re not a fling, McKenna. You know that. Just look at how you both clicked. The chemistry was undeniable. It’s just that the stakes are higher for her. Hollywood can be brutal, especially when it comes to personal lives. She probably feels trapped between wanting to be true to herself and wanting to protect her career.”

“I know,” McKenna said, her voice trembling. “But that doesn’t make it any easier. I feel like I’m on this emotional roller coaster. One minute, I’m hopeful, and the next, I’m convinced she’s going to walk away and never look back.”

“That may be how it seems now, but you don’t know what’s going on in her head,” Ember continued. “It’s better not to assume anything.”

“Yeah, but what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” McKenna asked, her frustration slipping through her voice.

“You know, you have to do what feels right for you,” Ember replied. “If it’s such a great love, maybe give her space, but be open to whatever may happen. You never know.”

“You’re right,” McKenna agreed aloud, but inside, she felt an overwhelming urge to shut out everything and everyone. The feeling was foreign and uncomfortable. She’d never let herself care for someone the way she did for Mazey. And to have that connection ripped away so suddenly over a text with no chance to respond made her feel helpless. She hated not having control.

Ember gave her a soft nudge. “Why don’t you go do things you enjoy to take your mind off it? There’s no sense in dwelling on it, especially on your day off. You deserve a break. Me and a few of the girls from the garage are heading over to Ace. Why don’t you join us? Have some fun, knock back a few drinks.”

McKenna gave a small smile but shook her head. “Thanks for the invite, but I think I’m gonna head to the gym.”

Ember laughed. “Just don’t punch anyone’s lights out while you’re there!”

McKenna chuckled back, feeling a bit lighter. “No promises. See ya.”

As she drove to the gym, her mind raced, replaying every memory of Mazey. Every small laugh they’d shared, every look that lingered a bit too long. The ache in her chest was raw, and she knew she’d have to sweat it out or it would consume her.

Once inside, she focused on the weights, pushing herself harder than usual. The burn in her muscles was grounding, a reminder that she was strong, even if her heart felt fragile. As she finished a set, she noticed the loud clatter of weights and the rhythmic hum of people around her. The routine brought her a semblance of peace. She moved from one exercise to the next, her mind settling into a steady rhythm.

But her thoughts still drifted back to Mazey. She wondered if Mazey felt the same pull she did or if she’d already moved on, brushing it all off as a mistake. The idea twisted something deep inside her, fueling her next rep, the weights clinking with each movement.

An hour later, sweat dripped down her back, her muscles aching in a satisfying way. She felt slightly more at ease, yet her chest still held that hollow ache, reminding her of how much Mazey meant to her. McKenna sat on a bench, wiping her face with a towel. She knew she couldn’t make Mazey’s decisions for her, but she wished Mazey had given them a real chance instead of closing the door before they’d even fully opened it.

She walked into the locker room and checked her phone, half-expecting a message from Mazey apologizing, telling her it was all a mistake. But there was nothing. She took a deep breath, steeling herself.

Maybe Ember was right. She couldn’t control what Mazey did, but she could control how she responded. If Mazey truly cared, maybe she’d come back. And if not, McKenna would find a way to move forward, just like she always did.

McKenna decided she might as well go to the bar. Ember was right. It had been a long time since she’d had a real night off, and she shouldn’t waste it sulking around. Her house was the last place she’d seen Mazey before she ended things, and returning to that empty, quiet space felt too raw. The thought of sitting there, surrounded by memories, was unbearable. She didn’t want to risk seeing any reminders of Mazey and spiraling into the hurt all over again.

Instead, she decided she’d shower at the gym, grab a quick bite, and then hit the bar. She’d avoid her phone, stay away from any screens that might show Mazey’s face, and pretend, just for one night, that Mazey didn’t exist. She knew Ember wouldn’t tell anyone, so she wouldn’t have to worry about fielding any prying questions or offering explanations. Tonight, she could just be herself without the weight of her broken heart in every glance.

As she stepped into the shower, McKenna let the hot water wash over her, her body aching from the intense workout she’d just finished. She stood there for a moment, feeling the heat soak into her muscles, soothing the tension and frustration that had built up inside her. The gym shower had always been a place of quiet for her, a place where she could let her guard down in privacy. She was glad she’d chosen to shower here; the gym had enough people moving in and out that she’d never allow herself to break down.

McKenna was a firefighter, part of a team that saved people’s lives. She didn’t need anyone in town seeing her vulnerable or hearing whispers that she’d been crying. They depended on her strength and resilience. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting the water cleanse more than just her skin.

When she finished, she dressed quickly, glancing in the mirror. Her eyes still looked a little tired, a little worn, but she felt a renewed sense of resolve. Tonight, she would go out, laugh with friends, and remind herself that she had a life outside of her connection to Mazey.

McKenna drove to the bar, turning up the music in her car, letting the bass drown out any stray thoughts that threatened to creep back in. By the time she arrived, her friends were already there, gathered around a pool table, drinks in hand and laughing easily. She joined them, grateful for the normalcy and camaraderie. They offered her a drink, and she considered it for a moment before declining. Somehow, a drink didn’t feel right. She didn’t want to risk letting her emotions get the best of her, and alcohol might loosen the grip she had on her hurt.

“C’mon, you’re usually the life of the party! Just one?” Jenna, teased, nudging her shoulder.

McKenna grinned, trying to match their energy. “Not tonight, I’m driving. Someone’s gotta keep you girls in check.”

They laughed, and McKenna allowed herself to sink into the simple joy of being surrounded by people who cared about her. For a moment, she felt almost normal again, caught up in their jokes and the easy rhythm of their conversation. The noise, the music, and the friendly faces around her created a kind of buffer, holding back the flood of hurt that had threatened to overwhelm her all day.

After an hour, Ember arrived, looking around and spotting McKenna immediately. She gave her a grin and came over, slipping an arm around her shoulders. “Glad to see you came out tonight. Figured you might hole up somewhere,” she said, her tone light but her gaze knowing.

McKenna smiled, shrugging. “Thought about it, but you’re right. It’s been a while since I had a real night off.”

Ember studied her for a moment. “Proud of you. This’ll pass, y’know. One day, it’ll just be another story.”

“Yeah,” McKenna replied, trying to believe it. But deep down, she wasn’t so sure.

She joined the group for another game of pool, chatting and laughing as best she could. But after a while, the noise started to feel too loud and the crowd too thick. She’d been holding it together all day, pretending everything was fine, and the act was wearing thin. She checked her watch and saw it was getting late; with work the next day, she had an excuse to leave without raising suspicions.

“Well, I think I’m going to call it a night,” she said, grabbing her jacket.

The women groaned in mock disappointment, but Ember gave her an understanding look. “We’ll catch up soon, alright?” Ember squeezed her shoulder. “Text me when you’re home safe.”

McKenna gave her a grateful nod and slipped out of the bar, relieved to be alone again. As she drove home, the silence in the car felt both comforting and daunting, and memories of Mazey crept in despite her efforts to keep them at bay. She had thought the night out might clear her mind, but instead, the ache in her chest felt sharper than ever.

When she finally pulled up to her house, she sat in the car for a moment, reluctant to go inside. The last time she’d been here, Mazey had been with her, laughing and looking at her with those bright, hopeful eyes that had made McKenna think, just for a second, that maybe she’d found something real. But that vision was shattered now, replaced by the cold text Mazey had sent.

She walked inside, the quiet of the house pressing down on her. She didn’t turn on the TV or bother checking her phone. Instead, she went to her room and sat down on the bed, staring at the wall. The emptiness felt like it was consuming her, like a hollow space that nothing could fill.

Lying back, she tried to focus on the positives. The friends who had been there for her, and the strength she’d built up over the years. But the truth was, her heart ached. She’d let herself open up, let herself believe in someone, and now she was left trying to pick up the pieces.

As she lay in the darkness, McKenna let out a slow breath. This was the hardest part, she knew. The waiting. Hoping that maybe Mazey would realize what she’d walked away from, that she’d come back with an apology. And yet, a part of McKenna knew that even if Mazey did come back, things wouldn’t be the same. The trust and certainty she’d felt was already cracked.

She forced herself to close her eyes, determined to get at least a few hours of sleep before her shift. Tomorrow would be another day, another chance to move forward, even if it felt impossible right now.

In the dark, she whispered to herself, “One day at a time.” It was all she could promise herself tonight, but it would have to be enough.

She quickly fell asleep, exhaustion finally overpowering the weight on her heart. Before she knew it, her alarm jolted her awake, filling the quiet room with its sharp, insistent beeps. McKenna groaned and rubbed her eyes, willing herself to push past the heavy ache still lingering from the night before. It was time for work, and work meant structure and focus, things she desperately needed right now.

She made herself a strong cup of coffee, sipping it slowly as she got ready. Each familiar step in her morning routine felt like a lifeline, a reminder of who she was outside of Mazey’s shadow. Today would be about the job and putting one foot in front of the other because moving forward was the only thing she could control.

By the time she slipped into her uniform, she felt the tiniest glimmer of strength returning. Work was her way forward, her path out of the fog of heartbreak. And as she walked out the door, she took a deep breath, promising herself that today, she’d start letting go.