25. Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rose
I watched Barry carefully. He stared at the wig, jaw tight.
I’d been up all night figuring out how to word this. The rehearsed speech was gone the moment I got in front of him.
Seconds stretched out. I wanted to beg him to say something, yet I was terrified of what he was thinking. I deserved whatever he had for me—that much I knew.
“You’re the same person,” he said slowly.
“Yes.”
“So, I first met you outside the bar, not when you came in and got hit on.”
“Yes.”
“And you dumped me.”
“I . . . as Lila, yes.”
“What the fuck ?”
There it was. The anger I deserved.
“I’m sorry,” was all I could say.
“For playing me?”
“I didn’t mean to play you. None of it was done with the intention of it going this far.”
“So why did you do it at all?”
“Because you seemed to like Rose more.”
“How? How did I like you as Rose more?”
“You opened up to me, Barry. You kicked Lila out when you found out about Wilfred and then told me . I came in to check on you to see how you were doing, but I never expected you to show me this rooftop and open up. And once you did, I thought Rose would be better.”
“I meant for Ruth and Tom to leave. Not you.”
I blinked. “But . . .?”
“Why would I kick you out?”
“You kept diverting the conversation when it was about your family.”
“Because you’re Lila Wilde . You didn’t have time to hear about my melodramatic, broken family. You’re a pop star, an international sensation. Why would you care about me?”
“Because you’re interesting? Because I care about people in general? You have such a perfect impression of me that it was harder to get you to see I was a normal person. And Lila is just a wig anyway. She’s not real.”
“So, it’s all a lie?”
“The feelings weren’t.”
“Why didn’t you tell me until now?”
“I . . . there’re a lot of things that happened and—?”
“Just answer this: was it because you didn’t trust me?”
“I trusted you.”
“Then you should have told me.”
I opened my mouth to try and defend myself, but nothing came out. There was no way to justify it.
Besides, the damage was done. Barry looked at me like he hated me, and I couldn’t blame him.
“I guess I have my answer,” he said. “You didn’t actually trust me. Don’t worry, though; no one will know. Whatever you think of me, I know the kind of person I am.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that it was far more than trust . But my phone rang.
And it was Juno.
I cursed. She’d found me. When I was quiet this morning, she had been worried about me, but I told her I wanted alone time.
Not that I was coming here.
“I have to go,” I said. I had no idea what she would say if she came up here. She, like Mom, was going to be pissed that I did this.
“Then go,” he said. “Go live your double life.”
“I . . .?” But my phone rang again.
“Go,” he said. “Go so I can fucking think for a minute.”
His words hurt, but I knew I had no basis to argue. I stuffed the wig in my bag, slowly nodded, and brushed past him.
And I let him go.
As I descended the stairs, I knew I’d messed this up in a way I’d never be able to fix.
I went through the hordes of people, trying to ignore the stinging in my eyes. I met Juno out on the sidewalk.
“Why are you here?” she asked suspiciously.
“We need to get back to the Airbnb.”
“What did you do?”
“I want to go home,” I snapped. “Then you can be mad at me there.”
Just like everyone else was.
She did what I asked. She waited until we pulled into the driveway before she started. “You told him, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
There was a long sigh. “This is bad. Really bad.”
“I couldn’t do it anymore.”
“Well, good for you.”
I turned to her. “This was my secret, Juno. I can do what I want with it. And don’t worry, I won’t fire you over calling Mom.”
“I do care about you , you know. Not just the consequences of what your mom could have done.”
“Sure, but maybe I need someone to support my choices, not be one of the millions of people begging me to do what they want.”
She was silent for a long time and I readied myself to hear all the reasons why she was right and I wasn’t.
I didn’t expect her to agree with me.
“Okay, yeah. I should have been better about supporting you, not telling you what to do.”
I glanced over at her, eyes wide. “Don’t you have more to tell me, though?”
“About what?”
“About how I’m wrong?”
“All of this is a little wrong. It’s not a black-and-white situation, especially when so much rides on this. The one thing that is one hundred percent true is that it is your secret. Not mine.”
I’d said that in anger and I was ready for it to be torn apart. Nothing was ever truly mine.
Until now.
“What did Barry say?”
“He was pissed, as he should be.”
“What do you think he’s going to do?”
“He said no one would know—that he knew he was trustworthy, even if I didn’t.”
Juno blew out a breath. “Wow. That’s . . . a good response, I guess.”
“Why can’t I do anything right? No matter what I do, people are upset.”
“They always will be. This is life.”
“I thought I could be different, that I could make everyone happy.”
“Every people pleaser learns they can’t, eventually. And I’m sorry I contributed to it. You have a right to do whatever you think is best, Rose. And you can piss people off.”
“At least my fans aren’t mad. I don’t think I could take that.”
Juno went silent again and I wondered if she was lost in thought. I wanted to ask if she could show me a few posts of fans being happy, but my phone rang.
It was Malia, which meant something was needed from Lila. I sincerely hoped Blaze hadn’t done anything else. That was the last thing I needed.
“Hey,” she said. “I hope you’re doing well.”
“I’m . . . okay. What’s up?”
“Your newest single is number two on the charts right now.”
“Wow, that’s great.” I hoped I sounded excited because numbers didn’t make me feel anything on this god-awful night.
“If you’re up to it, we need to monopolize on this. I have an offer for you to perform your new single on daytime TV up in New York City. You could maybe do an acoustic or something. You’re incredible when you perform live.”
“When is it?”
“Tomorrow. Think you can be there?”
That was so soon. I almost said no, but then I remembered that Barry wouldn’t want anything to do with me after this. He’d told me to leave, and maybe I should.
And I was on borrowed time anyway.
Nothing felt right and I wasn’t sure it would ever again. I needed to focus on my job. At least the fans would be happy.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ll be there. Thanks, Malia.”
I hung up and looked over to Juno.
“Time to go to New York.”
“What, why?”
“To perform. It’s time to go back to being Lila.”
“But what about Barry?”
“Be honest: would you ever talk to me again if you were in Barry’s shoes?”
Juno’s stricken face was my answer.
“Exactly. Performing always makes me feel better, and according to Malia, this’ll be good for me in the long run. I want to just do one thing that makes someone happy. This is one way I can do that right now.”
Barry
I barely slept. I was too busy trying to put the pieces of my sanity back together. But not sleeping didn’t help and I was exhausted when I finally woke up out of my mostly restless slumber.
My anger was interrupted by a phone call. It was Tom.
“If you’re calling to ask how I am, then the answer is not good.”
“I was calling to check in, but I was also calling to see if you wanted to go out. We’re getting breakfast. Want to join?”
“You and Max?”
“Yep. Selena’s in Atlanta visiting her best friend.”
“I . . . I don’t know if I’ll be any fun.”
“Trust me, Max will be enough fun for us both.”
Usually, I would stay alone and wallow in this. People didn’t get to see me when I was this upset.
Seeing the second dining room chair was a reminder of how things had gone so downhill. Max was a cute kid who’d proven to be a bundle of laughter and joy anytime I saw him, so maybe going out with Tom and him would do me some good.
“Okay. Where do you want me to meet you?”
“Have you ever been to Biscuit Love?”
“No, but I know where it is. I’ll meet up with you in a few.”
I slowly got dressed, putting my hair up into a messy bun. I drove to the restaurant in pure silence, unable to listen to anything. I pulled into a spot, seeing Tom getting out of a car of all things.
“Is that a new car?” I asked.
“Yep. The truck, even with airbags, is a safety risk.”
“It’s nice,” I said. “At what point are you getting the minivan?”
The joke felt wrong, considering my shit mood, but it helped.
“On kid three,” Tom said with a straight face.
“I want a sister!” Max said.
“Let me and your mom get married first. Then we’ll talk.”
“Little man knows what he wants,” I said, able to crack a small smile. Max was so happy, it was infectious.
“Oh yeah,” Max said. “I’ve been an only child for too long, and honestly?”—he lowered his voice—“Mom and Dad need something else to focus on.”
“Too strict?” I asked.
“There’s just too much love.”
“Sickening,” I replied, but I smiled at Tom.
The restaurant smelled like biscuits and citrus. It was decorated in pink and white with a touch of dark stained wood—a Nashville classic.
“I want an orange juice,” Max said immediately. “They make it fresh here.”
“You can’t say no to fresh-squeezed,” I replied.
We got our meals and found a table; I was happy to be out of the apartment for a bit. Max was content to talk about everything. And it was nice to listen to a kid and not relive Rose’s and my doomed conversation over and over again.
“Dad said you were in a bad mood,” Max said in between sips of his drink. He looked up at me with innocent eyes. “Wanna talk about it?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Even doing it a little can help. You don’t have to tell us the details , but we’re here for you, Uncle Barry.”
I looked at Tom.
“Does he get this open nature from you?”
“I’m pretty sure he gets that from Selena,” Tom said. “Not us.”
“You’re nice too, Dad. You wouldn’t believe how much he talks about his feelings.” Max looked at Tom and then back at me. “And when I was mad at him, us talking really helped.”
“You were mad at him?”
“For lying and not telling me who he was for a bit. It sucked.”
I blinked. That was almost exactly my situation. “And you got over it?”
“I did. I mean, they should have told me from the start, but they also wanted to protect me.” He shrugged. “We all make mistakes when we care about people. It’s what we do afterward that makes the difference. You can stay mad or you can see if they won’t do it again. And as far as I know”—his eyes slid to Tom—“you haven’t done it again, right?”
“I mean, there’s some stuff I can’t tell you.” Tom eyed me. “But that’s only because I really can’t.”
“What did you say it was again?”
“Nondisclosure agreements.”
“Yeah, that sounds super legal. But you told me that might happen not too long ago. And I get it.”
I leaned back in my seat, thinking about Max’s words and my situation. He was right, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear it.
“You’re a really smart kid.”
He perked up. “Thank you.”
“I tell you that all the time,” Tom interjected.
“Yeah, but it’s cooler hearing it from my fun uncle.”
“I’m the fun uncle?” I asked. “Do you have another one?”
“Knox, but he’s the smart one.”
“I like being the fun uncle.”
“You know what would make you the super fun uncle? If we hung out more. That way, Uncle Knox doesn’t dethrone you.” He raised an eyebrow and he looked so much like a happier, younger version of Tom—I had to laugh.
“You know what? I’ll have to take you up on that. Once I figure out what the hell to do with a twelve-year-old.”
“I like pretty much anything. I’m an easy kid.” He shrugged. “I like Centennial Park, pop music, and roller skating.”
“That’s a new thing,” Tom said. “He’s pretty good at it.”
“We’ll have to figure out something different, though. I want our hangouts to be special.”
“That would be so cool. As long as you can hold up your promise, though. I’ll be waiting.”
I let out a huff of a laugh. “Can you believe this?”
“I can. He’s a mess.” Tom reached out to touch his hair.
“Dad, don’t even dare. I will scream and ruin breakfast for everyone if you mess up what I worked on for ten minutes.”
Tom’s hand stilled. “He’s sensitive about that.”
“Mom does it all the time! Do you know how much effort it takes to style this?”
Tom shook his head, still smiling. “Fine. I’ll be a decent dad and leave you alone. Speaking of dads, did you ever meet up with Wilfred?”
Shit. I hadn’t even thought about it. “I . . . did. It went okay.”
“What happened?”
A pit of anxiety settled in my stomach as if telling Tom about Wilfred would set us off. “He’s nice. I didn’t talk to him too long.”
“Who is that?” Max asked.
Tom looked at me, a silent question in his gaze.
“He’s my dad. My real one, that is.”
“You have a different dad?” Max asked. “Congratulations. It must be a relief.”
“Kind of,” I said. “Family stuff doesn’t really bother me.”
Max narrowed his eyes and I had a feeling he saw right through the lie.
“We can’t go in too hard on Barry. Let him have time to process.”
Relief hit me at Tom’s words. Sometimes, he was a decent brother.
Or all the time, as of late, it seemed.
“Thanks,” I said.
“When you’re ready, we’ll be there.”
“Can I be included too?” Max asked. “I’m invested now.”
“It depends on how south this goes.”
“You know, working out helps me process,” Tom offered. “After breakfast, I was thinking about heading to the gym.”
“Ew,” Max said. “Please leave me with abuela. I’m still recovering from the run we went on.”
“Is she even free?”
“For her favorite grandson? She better be. I’m still teaching her how to play Mario Kart. You two can have all the fun you want to at the gym. I have my own mission.”