Chapter Twenty-Four
Sig’s instincts were telling him to pin Chloe to the floor to prevent her from answering the phone. Drag her into bed, pull the covers down over their heads, and never leave this bedroom. There couldn’t be anything good on the other end of that call. He couldn’t say what made him so positive of that fact. Maybe trepidation had become his default because the world was trying to take this woman away from him. Or maybe he just wanted to stay cocooned in this moment with Chloe forever, their scents on each other’s sweaty skin.
“The phones...” she said, trying to lift her head, but losing power in her neck and sagging more firmly against him, her cheek in between his pecs.
“Ignore them. Do you have anywhere to be today?” he asked, stroking her hair.
“Practice with Grace in a couple of hours.” She yawned against his chest and he saw the life he wanted flash before his eyes. Waking up with her every day. Forever. Watching her shake the drowsiness. “Not a long one, though. She has a performance tonight.”
“And I have my meeting.” He tightened his arms around her, raising his voice to drown out the incessant chimes coming from the bathroom. “But we have a couple of hours.”
The phones stopped ringing.
Almost immediately, they started again.
“Ignore the world with me a little longer, Chlo,” he begged.
“But who would be calling us both? Continually?” Her focus was drifting. He was losing her. “Something could be wrong.”
“Please. I don’t give a fuck.”
She looked up at him with a smirk that slowly started to flatten. “Do you think... there’s another article?”
“What would it be about? We haven’t seen each other in a week.”
“I don’t know.” With a visible effort, she peeled herself off his chest, though she eyed it with regret, as if she wanted to stay there a lot longer. “I’ll go answer mine.”
“No.”
“Sig.”
She started to get up, but he pulled her back down, arms wrapping around her tightly, like she was a life preserver in a storm. And she didn’t struggle, she simply let him squeeze her, stroking the parts of his forearms she could reach, tilting her face to the side so he could plant hard kisses on her cheeks and eyelids and forehead. “Tell me you love me again.”
“I love you.” No hesitation. “It’ll always be that way.”
His arms wouldn’t work after that, so he couldn’t prevent her from crawling out of his lap and standing up. He watched through bleary eyes as she found her panties on the floor and tugged them on, leaving the bedroom in underwear and a bra. The phones were still ringing in the bathroom and he didn’t want to know why. But he found out a second later when Chloe answered, her voice reaching him clear as a bell from the other room.
“Hi, Mom. What’s up?” She paused. “I’m sorry we argued, too, but—” Chloe stopped. “You have news? Okay. What is it? Did the dresses arrive from Paris?”
Chloe must have tapped the icon for speakerphone, because a tinny, muffled voice was echoing in the bathroom, joining Chloe’s. Momentarily, anyway. Both voices grew closer as Chloe moved back into view, propping her hip on the bedroom doorway, her gaze fastening on Sig, phone aloft. A line between her brows. As if she’d just now started to sense the impending doom, along with him. As if she wished they’d just climbed into bed and shut out the world.
Too late.
Something told him it was way too late.
“Well. Harvey and I...” Sofia paused to laugh, a male baritone chuckle joining her in the background. One belonging to his father. “We’re just a couple of impulsive kids these days. And the wedding planning was becoming so tedious, dear. I was stressed and Harvey hates seeing me stressed, so we decided to cut our losses... and own it . Just like you suggested, dear.”
Chloe was starting to breathe faster. “I don’t... I’m not following...”
“Are you sitting down?” Sofia didn’t bother waiting for an answer. “We got married last night. In Las Vegas . I mean, it’s so not my style, but I think that’s why it was so wonderful ...”
Sofia continued to chatter on without stopping for breath, but Sig couldn’t hear anything else over the sound of his bones buckling. Loud booms in his head that might have been his pulse or maybe the world was really ending, but reality grew distorted and muffled, his stomach roiling to the point he thought he might get sick on the floor.
Their parents had gotten married.
It had happened.
He hadn’t stopped the marriage from taking place.
Done deal. It was a done deal.
Meaning... Chloe was now his stepsister. She’d been his stepsister since last night.
Her fingers were white around the phone, her expression hollow. Dazed.
He needed to get up and comfort her, but his limbs weren’t working.
“You got married in Vegas?” Chloe wheezed. “You’re... married now. To Harvey.”
“Yes! And oh dear, we really wanted to include you and Sig, but sometimes you have to go where the wind takes you. After your big, impulsive move to Boston, I knew you would understand.” A prolonged pause. “Are you upset?”
Chloe’s eyes were rapidly turning glassy. “Only that I forgot to see something like this coming,” she muttered, swiping at her moist eyes. But she wasn’t giving her mother the satisfaction of hearing it, even after the barb about being impulsive—and Sig had the presence of mind to be proud of Chloe for that. He wouldn’t have been able to accomplish shit in his current state of destroyed. But Chloe? She squared her shoulders and forced a brave expression, even though he could see the positivity cost her a great deal. “We’ll just have to throw a fabulous party so we can wear those dresses at least once.”
“Now that is the spirit. Maybe we’ll just have a second wedding! Though the planning will be a lot less nerve-racking this time, because I’m already married to the love of my life.”
There was a loud kiss on the other end of the line—and the bomb that dropped in his stomach as a result propelled Sig off the floor. He dressed without feeling the fabric of the clothes in his hands, only bothering with his briefs and sweatpants. Who gave a fuck about a shirt?
“We certainly hope we can celebrate together in person soon! When will you have time to make a trip to Darien? Of course, we’re in Vegas for a stint, but maybe next week?”
“I don’t know,” Chloe responded, beginning to lose that tightly leashed control of her voice with just the slightest wobble. “I’ve hit a breakthrough in training and don’t want to lose any ground.”
“Oh.” Now Sofia was the one trying to mask her emotions. “Well, we’ll work something out. Harvey is trying to get a hold of Sig. You wouldn’t happen to know how to track him down on a Saturday morning, would you?”
She closed her eyes, instead of meeting the look he sent her. Would she no longer make eye contact? Out of shame? The possibility caused an ice pick to lodge in his jugular. “No. He’s been on the road. I haven’t seen him.”
“Ah, very well. Maybe he’s just sleeping in with his ringer off.” Then, quieter, “Don’t worry, dear, we’ll get in touch with him before the day is over.”
Chloe shifted right to left, still with her eyes squeezed shut. “I need to get off the phone now. But... congratulations. Enjoy Vegas and we’ll speak when you come back.”
“Thank you, dear! Kisses! Bye!”
When the call ended, the silence that followed was thicker than anything he’d ever heard. No sound. No horns, no doors opening and closing in the hallway, no floorboards creaking overhead. Nothing. Maybe his senses could only handle the abundance of shock and nothing else.
I failed.
It’s over.
Chloe was lost to him. Gone.
Had he done everything in his power to sway the outcome of this? Without committing a felony? He had, right? Maybe this moment had always been inevitable. But it was also in this moment that he realized how deep his feelings ran for Chloe, because he still wanted to physically drag her into bed and throw up his middle finger at the universe.
He also loved her way too much to ruin her life.
To cost her that first chair with the symphony.
To drag her into a worse tabloid scandal than he already had.
Furthermore, being her provider was no longer an option and she’d need her mother going forward. She’d need the safety net of Darien now more than ever.
And so, when she made a choked sound, ran into the bathroom, and slammed the door behind her, Sig strode blindly out of the apartment, down the stairs and out of the building, his heart deadening a little more in his chest with every step he took.
C HLOE EXISTED IN a disturbing state of calm.
If she moved too quickly or allowed what-ifs to start pouring in, she would crumble. So she didn’t. She didn’t walk too fast or slow, she stayed at a medium pace, one foot in front of the other. She nodded when necessary. Gave appropriate responses to the barista at the coffee shop, said hello to Raymond on her way out of the building, while heading to Grace’s.
Being in a funnel of people sounded like the worst possible scenario when she was more fragile than a glass figurine, but she took the train, nonetheless. Maybe she was hoping to be distracted or get sucked into a cacophony of motion. Whatever the reason, she went. And she held it together, dammit. Even when a tourist asked Chloe for directions and she realized, holy shit, I’m officially a Bostonian and immediately she reached for her phone to text Sig her amusement over that fact, she managed to keep her cool.
No more tears.
They wouldn’t solve anything.
But it was impossible to ignore the fact that something inside of her was irrevocably broken. A light had gone out inside of her and she knew in her bones, the electrical lines had been cut. In other words, that light would never shine again. Not this particular one.
The one that had lit the corner of the world she shared only with Sig.
Something must come of this. Something good has to happen now.
If one tragedy begets another, she would abandon her calm and start burning down cities, one by one. There had to be a purpose here. There had to be a reason she’d met her soulmate only to have him taken away. This had to mean something, right?
She raised her hand to knock on Grace’s door with no memory of the journey to reach it. Nor did she remember speaking to the doorman downstairs. Wouldn’t he have buzzed Grace to let her know Chloe had arrived?
Yes.
That’s why the door is already open.
Ordering herself to get it together, Chloe pushed into the penthouse, looking around for her mentor while hanging up her coat, a movement that taxed her in ways it shouldn’t. It strained her arms, her neck, her insides. Just keep moving. Slow and steady.
The sound of footsteps approached from the rear hallway—and they were accompanied by the rolling of wheels. A second later, Chloe caught sight of the source. Grace strode into view wheeling a Louis Vuitton suitcase, a metallic gold neck pillow hanging from the handle.
Grace raised an eyebrow. “Why aren’t you practicing? Time is in short supply.”
“Why do you have luggage? Where are you going?”
“Right now? Nowhere.” She lowered the handle of the suitcase, dusting her hands off against each other. “Tonight, I might head to Amsterdam, though.”
“ What? ”
“After my final performance, that is.”
“ Final? ”
Grace sighed long and loud. “You’re especially blonde today, Chloe.”
“Oh, excuse me for being caught off guard.” She gestured at the suitcase. “Is this your way of saying you’re giving up on me? Because no. I don’t accept that. I’ve been here every day playing my heart out. I’ve improved. I’m... formidable . You didn’t even have notes for me yesterday and now you’re just going to walk? So you can go live your European love triangle fantasy? No. I’m not leaving.”
“European love triangle fantasy. That has a ring to it.” Grace’s eyes twinkled ever so slightly in a rare slip of humor. “But alas, I plan on shoving the cellist’s bow up her ass and getting my girlfriend back. Which means, you’re taking over my shift. So to speak.”
Chloe’s blood stopped flowing. “What do you mean?”
“I mean ...” Grace drew out the word while rolling her eyes. “There’s a reason I had no notes for you yesterday. Chloe, you are... indeed formidable. And you have more mettle than I originally gave you credit for. Because of that, I met with the board of advisers and head of conducting late last night. They’d already been informed of my impending departure and sent a flood of our session videos taken over the last two weeks. To say they are eager to add someone with your talent to the ensemble is an understatement.” She took a pleased breath. “As of Monday, you’re the new first chair harpist for BSO. Don’t fuck it up. And for the love of God, do not fuck your stepbrother, either. Or I’ll come back here and shove the harp up your butt. Don’t assume it can’t be done.”
Chloe almost collapsed to the floor, but she couldn’t name the emotion that made her feel weak everywhere at once. Relief that she’d found the silver lining to her heartbreak that she’d so des perately needed. Or sadness that it wasn’t even close to enough to make her happy. Proud of herself, yes. Determined to do justice to the first chair position. Yes.
Happiness remained elusive, though. Maybe it always would.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Grace’s brow furrowed slightly as she studied Chloe. “Are you okay?”
There was no simple answer to that, so Chloe went with an answer that she desperately hoped had some truth to it. “No. But I will be.”