Chapter 39
Ryleigh
I haven’t slept since the night Angus visited me at work.
Seeing him again re-opened all the wounds and I’m having a hard time with everything. Again. Everything is so damn raw. As strong as I pretended to be in front of him, now that he’s gone, I’m a mess. Everyone at work has noticed and Josie has taken to coming by at night, hanging out on slow nights just to talk.
I want to move on, to put Angus and Crimson Edge and my disastrous and short journalism career behind me, but it’s easier said than done. It’s like an integral part of me is missing and without it, I’m just a shell of my former self.
And I hate myself for feeling that way.
I never thought I would be one of those women who can’t survive a broken heart.
But this is so much more than that.
The humiliation, the loss of friends like Kirsten and Lexi, and—I have to be hallucinating. I’ve spent so much time thinking about Kirsten and Lexi, I’m starting to see things. Because they can’t possibly be walking into the restaurant on a Wednesday night in the middle of November.
I blink and then do a double take.
Holy shit.
Lexi waves like we just saw each other yesterday and Kirsten comes running over to hug me.
“Hi.” I can’t help but hug her back. “What are you doing here?”
“We have to talk,” she says firmly. “Can you take a break?”
“I…” I look around and motion to a table in the back. “Go sit down and I’ll let my staff know I’m taking ten.”
A few minutes later I join them and one of the waitresses comes over to see if we want anything to eat.
“Two virgin pina coladas please,” Lexi says with a grin.
“And these loaded nachos,” Kirsten adds, looking at the menu. “I’ve been traveling all day—I’m starving.”
“Oh, and the boneless wings,” Lexi adds.
“So, what’s up, guys? You didn’t come all the way to Minneapolis for virgin drinks and nachos.”
They exchange a look and then lean forward. “This is an intervention,” Lexi says.
“Because you and Angus are obviously too stubborn to figure shit out on your own.” Kirsten nods.
“We gave it a little time,” Lexi continues, “but you’re still in hiding and Angus is grumpier than ever. So it’s time to talk this shit out.”
“Angus came to talk to me,” I say softly. “But there’s nothing to work out. I understand that he thought I betrayed him, but he didn’t even give me a chance to explain or to maybe discuss what happened together. He told me he loved me and then, when I needed him most, turned his back on me. I miss him so much I can barely breathe sometimes, but how can I go back to a relationship like that?”
“He’s been in therapy,” Lexi says quietly. “For months now. He’s been working on himself. You have no idea how he felt when the truth came out.”
I don’t say anything because I always knew the truth—Angus just didn’t give me a chance to explain. I didn’t know about Ben, of course, but I could have shown him the email from Rich telling me he “fixed” my article. Or let him listen to the voicemail Rich left me a few days after the article was published, patting himself on the back for doing what he had to do to make me relevant in the world of investigative journalism. There were no details but enough vague information to prove that the article wasn’t entirely written by me.
“Look, I’m really happy to see you guys, but I can’t?—”
“He’s thinking about leaving the band,” Lexi says flatly.
“He’s what?” Kirsten squeaks as my mouth falls open.
“I’m not supposed to know this,” Lexi admits, “but I happened to overhear something I shouldn’t have. And that’s why we’re here.”
“It is?” Kirsten looks indignant. “I thought we were meddling.”
“We are, and I wasn’t going to pull out the big guns unless I had to because I really didn’t want to talk about something I wasn’t supposed to overhear, but it’s obvious the two of you need help getting on the same page.”
“He can’t leave the band,” I whisper, shaking my head. “I mean, why…” I can’t even formulate a question, it’s so far out of the realm of possibility in my mind.
“For you, silly,” Lexi says. “He knows he screwed up. All I know is, he was on a conference call with Sasha and Casey, talking about the possibility of leaving the band. Giving them a timetable and explaining that it’s a last resort, but that he doesn’t want to blindside them. He’s done enough of that in the last few months.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” Kirsten demands, scowling at Lexi.
“Like I said, I was doing my best not to speak out of turn, but I see now that he was serious. And you’re the reason why.” She turns to me. “Do you love him, Ryleigh?”
“It has nothing to do with love!” I protest. “I?—”
“You didn’t answer the question,” she interrupts softly. “Do you love him?”
I blink away tears. “Yes.”
“You really think he would even consider leaving the band if he didn’t love you too?”
“I don’t want him to leave the band,” I whisper. “Not for me, not for any reason. It’s part of him. The music, the guys…”
“Then come to New York for the shows at the Garden this weekend.”
“I can’t,” I say weakly. “I have a job…they depend on me.”
“They’ll survive. What if you had the flu? Come on, Ryleigh, this is important. No matter what you say, no matter how much he hurt you, you know you love him. And he desperately wants to fix this.”
“Did he send you guys here to talk to me?” I ask suspiciously.
“No.” Kirsten shakes her head. “Sam doesn’t even know I’m here. I left right after class today, and Lexi met me here. We’d already talked about reaching out to you and then thought coming in person would be better.”
“It’s really good to see you,” I admit. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” Kirsten squeezes my hand.
“Fly out Saturday morning,” Lexi says. “I’ll have a car pick you up at the airport and leave a pass for you at the venue. You can meet us there for soundcheck and then we’ll wing it. Come on, you can’t say no to a pregnant lady.” She pats her now very visible belly—she was still wearing her regular clothes when I left the tour.
I sigh, resting my head in my hand. “What if he doesn’t want to see me?”
Kirsten makes a face. “Seriously? He’s fucking miserable without you. Trust me. Sam says he just drinks until he passes out most nights. Doesn’t party with them, isn’t interested in groupies…he does nothing but show up for shows.”
That hurts me.
Knowing that he’s hurting doesn’t make me feel any better.
And suddenly, though I’m skeptical, I’m also a tiny bit hopeful.
If he misses me so much he’s willing to leave the band, maybe it’s worth having a conversation.
Even if we can’t work things out, I don’t want him to quit Crimson Edge.
If nothing else, I have to save him from himself.
And maybe, if I’m lucky, get back the man I love in the process.