58. Chapter Fifty-Eight
After spending some time reflecting in the park, I knew I had to make things right. Now, as I sit here with Poppy, I can hear Theo in the background, completely butchering another one of my songs. Although I know I should step in and put a stop to it, as I’m certain my ears will soon bleed, I know this moment with Poppy holds greater importance. Resolving this issue is my utmost priority because it is what truly matters to me. It is what my heart truly desires - the chance to create a family with the woman I love and to establish a deep bond with my son.
Screw everything else. I’ve worked my ass off to get where I am, while Poppy has put hers on hold. I haven’t told her how I feel yet. The words are right there on the tip of my tongue, ready to say, but I hesitate and can’t get them out. Why is it so ridiculously hard to say those three simple words aloud?
“You need to stop running away whenever things get tough, Xander,” Poppy says.
I realize that this has been my issue all along - evading problems and attempting to hide from reality, hoping that things will miraculously resolve themselves.
“I know. I promise, Princess, no more running away. You have my word. Does Alex know about me?”
“Yes. He knows that the second half of his name is the same as yours. That’s why I called him Alexander. So he had a little piece of you, even though you weren”t there.”
Tears well in my eyes upon learning that she included my name with our sons. It makes me realize she never hated me the way I thought she did. She would never have included my name in our son’s name if she did.
“What else have you told him about me?” I ask.
“Only that his daddy is working very hard. And one day soon, hopefully, he’ll meet him.”
“I want to meet him,” I say, more tears forming in my eyes. The dark scars that I carry are no secret to Poppy; she”s seen them before, and I don”t care if she witnesses this side of me. “I may not have a clue about being a father, but I want to be there for him as his dad.”
A stray tear spills down Poppy’s cheek and I lift my hand and gently wipe it away with the pad of my thumb.
“Poppy,” I whisper, my voice heavy with sorrow. As I gently cup the side of her face with my hand, I move closer. “I hate myself for hurting you. Let me be the guy I should”ve been years ago. Let me be the one who should”ve stayed and told you how I feel.”
“I would like that.”
The gentle touch of my lips to hers feels like a pledge of what is yet to come.
“Can I see a photo of him?” I ask, curious to see if he takes after Poppy.
She smiles, grabs her phone, clicks through to find the photo, and then hands it to me.
A stray tear spills down my cheek when I see Alex. His eyes, jawline, and hair color are an exact reflection of mine. He looks just like the photo of me that my mom kept on her bedside table.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, little man,” I say to the image on the screen. “I promise to make it up to you now.” I run my fingers over his tiny face, taking in every precious detail. It’s as if I already know him somehow. It’s like he’s the same little boy I once was, full of happiness and love. But the difference is, I had the love of both a mother and a father back then. On the other hand, Alex has been without a father for years. I can’t help but wonder if he’s ever asked about me. And if he has, I wonder what Poppy has told him.
“He’s beautiful isn’t he?’ Poppy says.
“He is.”
Reg’s loud voice sounds and I hand Poppy back her phone.
“Why the fuck are you not up there?” He says coming towards us.
I quickly stand up, completely ignoring the arrogant dickhead. Taking Poppy’s hand in mine, I guide her away from him, striding in the opposite direction. There is no way this asshole is coming between us. Nothing is ever again. This is my family, and a true man fights for his family to make it work.
I ignore the asshole’s persistent rants, even when he continues to follow us and interrogate me about my whereabouts. But I refuse to engage in his game, fully aware that any interaction will only lead to another complaint he will make to the label, accusing me of disappearing once again. However, now that I know the truth, I couldn’t care less about his accusations. If I had to choose between fame and family, I would give all of this up in a heartbeat. It’s a no-brainer when it comes down to it.
Listening to him, I’m fully prepared to confront Reg if he dares utter a word to Poppy, like he usually does.
To my surprise, he remains silent. I can’t help but question the reasoning behind Reg and Ace’s insistence on bringing Poppy along for this tour. Sure, there have been times when I’ve gone off the radar to clear my mind, but most of the negative attention in the media is stirred up by Reg. My outbursts have mostly been in response to false stories printed in the papers or online. I’ve often clashed with the label over their demands, but my anger was primarily fueled by Poppy being exposed to all that untrue nonsense. I never wanted her to witness any of it, nor did I want her to believe she was just some casual fling. Her presence on this tour allows me to confront the heaviness of leaving her behind. Now, I can finally deal with all the stuff I’ve been avoiding for years.
“Where are we going?” Poppy asks as I guide her around the back area of the stage and down the side corridor.
“I can’t bear the sound of this fool butchering my songs anymore. If he keeps going, I might just jam a pencil in my ears.”
Her laughter fills the air, a familiar and comforting sound that brings a smile to my face.
As soon as I step onto the stage with Poppy, her hand tightens its grip on mine. Nate’s drumming abruptly halts the moment he lays eyes on me, and Ace’s guitar playing suddenly stops.
“Thank fuck,” Ace says. “I never want to hear that asshole sing another word as long as I live.”
“Hey, it wasn’t that bad,” Theo comments, approaching and taking his usual spot, ducking his head and slipping his guitar strap onto his shoulder.
Lewis, the sound guy, steps forward. “We’re already behind, and Reg is on my ass about the time, so let’s just wrap up with the last song,” he says, turning away.
The final song, the one that has haunted me for years, now belongs to the fans. But with Poppy by my side, I want to create another special memory for just the two of us. I reach out and take Poppy’s hand, pulling her across the stage.
“What are we doing?” she asks, and I hear the worry in her voice.
“We’re going to sing,” I reply.
Poppy yanks her hand from mine and shakes her head, desperate to create distance between us. But I quickly wrap my arm around her waist and draw her closer to me. I am aware of the watchful eyes of the other three band members as they observe our intimate exchange. Leaning in, I softly whisper into her ear, “Princess, this song is ours. The moment I heard you sing it, I felt something powerful, even though I couldn’t understand what it was at the time. It shouldn’t belong to the fans, so let’s reclaim it as ours.”
“But I don’t sing anymore, Xander. I haven’t for years,” she whispers.
It saddens me to hear her say that, especially since she has more talent than some of the singers signed to the label.
“It’s just the two of us here, Princess. The guys won’t judge you. It doesn’t matter how you sound, just sing it with me.”
I lean forward, running my face along her neck, and gently plant a soft kiss against her skin. I know how much she used to enjoy this gesture, especially when she’s caught up in her thoughts.
“But what about Reg?” she asks, her concern evident.
“Fuck Reg,” I respond firmly. “If he causes any trouble, I’ll handle it.”
I truly mean every word - I’m ready to face him head-on the instant he says anything because this is important to me. I’m determined to reclaim this song as ours, to recapture the essence of what we had all those years ago.
As she catches my gaze, she hesitates briefly before nodding, recognizing the determination in my eyes. I lean in and plant a gentle kiss on her cheek, then shift my attention to scan the band, the sound crew, and the onlookers who are all observing our interaction. Taking Poppy’s hand in mine, I lead her over to the microphone.
With a nod, I signal to Nate that we’re ready for the song. I notice Ace”s expression, as if he”s bracing himself for yet another rendition of a terrible song. Little does he know, Poppy has an incredible singing voice, a secret I’ve kept from him. Only Theo is aware of her talent, as I shared it with him one night. Considering Theo’s tendency to reveal secrets, it’s highly probable that Nate knows as well.
The beat permeates the air, and Ace and Theo seamlessly merge with the music. I’m unable to look away from Poppy as she watches me lean into the microphone, ready to sing the opening line. I sense her nervousness, her hand trembling in mine. Gently, I rub my thumb along the back of her hand, hoping to reassure her. With a nod, I give her the signal to sing the second line, and she does so effortlessly. Despite her long absence from singing, her voice remains flawless, with that seductive and captivating tone that never fails to enthrall me. I urge her to continue, line after line.
As she grows more comfortable with the microphone, I scan the crowd and notice people standing there, undeniably amazed, curious to know who possesses such an extraordinary voice.
I glance over at Theo, who purposely avoids making eye contact. He, along with Ace and Nate, are completely absorbed in watching Poppy as she passionately delivers the lyrics of “Creep.” Just like when she had mesmerized me with her voice and vulnerability on the street, she now demands the attention of everyone present.
Damn, this girl can sing. She owns the stage, and I know if this place was packed right now, she would effortlessly captivate every single person in that crowd. However, I know Poppy. That’s not her style, no matter how exceptionally talented she is. She never sought the spotlight; all she ever wanted was to use her music to make a difference for children.
As the song concludes, she looks over at me, her smile radiating pure joy, and in this moment, my heart swells with pride for her.
“Fuck!” Ace says, coming forward. “I never knew you could sing like that.”
Poppy”s cheeks flush, as if someone has caught her doing something wrong. I pull her close, wrapping my arm around her.
“How was it?” I ask, eager to hear her thoughts.
“Now I understand why my dad loved it so much. Thank you,” she says.