My phone vibrates again with an incoming call from EC, the song taking me right back to that beautiful place and time I first heard it, stirring some strength from within me. Other than changing my ringtone, I have yet to program his name to something more, to clarify his significance in my life and the happiness it brought me before it was ripped away. Holding the phone in my hand, I take a calming breath before sliding it to answer.
“Beauty?” he gasps, before I get a chance to get a word in.
“I’m here,” I murmur.
“Jesus. I’m so fucking pissed at you. How could you not answer my calls?”
“I texted you,” I mumble. “It’s, it’s been a day. I’m sorry,” I wipe at my stinging cheek.
“Okay. It’s okay,” he exhales harshly. “What’s happening?”
“How is your mother?” I fire back.
“She’s fine,” he replies quickly, too quickly.
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not, but fine is a stretch. She was still somewhere between furious and devastated when I left this morning, which was an improvement from when I got there. Dad isn’t speaking to me.”
“Same,” I say. “But her health?”
“She’s fine, baby. I’m not stretching that truth at all. She didn’t stroke and was only sedated as a precaution.”
“Jesus, Easton. You never told me about that.”
“Because it’s been over a decade since her last episode. I didn’t think…Jesus, I didn’t think…”
“We chose not to think. Young, reckless, and na?ve,” I remind him.
“Please don’t try and validate their behavior yesterday. That was not fucking okay. Tell me what’s happening.”
“I messaged our receptionist, and she told me Speak is surrounded by paparazzi, which is expected, so I’m working from home for now.”
“Okay, that’s not so bad, right?”
“No,” I lie. I hate that I am lying, but if I reveal the whole truth and the consequences I’m facing, I have a feeling he’ll come straight to me—and so will his temper, which could be even more destructive. His next words only confirm it.
“Come to me, Beauty. Come on tour for a few days. You can work anywhere remotely. I’ll fly you here.”
“Easton, we have to face this, face them. Our parents are integrated closely into both our lives.”
“Yeah, well, now I’m beginning to think that’s not such a good thing.”
“It’s a large part of who we are. We can’t change that. I don’t want to.”
“Dad’s not touring with us anymore, so it’s changing regardless.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not. That cord needed cutting a long fucking time ago.”
“That’s not true. He’s your touchstone.”
“You’re my fucking world.”
“You’re angry,” I know the hurt will soon follow as he speaks up.
“Joel helped me clear out most of my shit this morning. I’m not going back home anytime soon. I wasn’t going to anyway, right? Fuck, I can’t stand this.”
“We just tore our families apart. My mom,” I whisper, “she figured out what I was hiding and where to find it. While Dad was on the plane, she went to the paper, searched my desktop, and found the emails. She read them all, and when we got home…it was bad.”
Silence lingers before a low, “Fuck.”
“I was so wrong, Easton,” I manage to keep the shake out of my voice. “She knew about our parents, about Stella, and never once resented her until I dragged her into their past. This could harm my parents’ marriage. Maybe it already has.”
“I get they have a right to be upset, but they’re just as in the wrong as we are, with the way they’re reacting. What the hell are we supposed to do?”
“Find someone else to fall in love, marry, and have children with.”
“That’s your solution?” His tone is biting.
“I have your ring on my finger.” I lift the black band into my line of sight, loving the weight of it, its significance—and the memory of his expression when he slipped it onto my finger fills me with warmth. “It means more now than it did when you put it there. I can’t stop staring at it. It was the happiest moment of my life.”
“We’ll have more.”
“I know,” I do my best to control my involuntary hiccup and fail. A second later, he requests FaceTime.