Chapter Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Seven
Nico
“A more mio, wake up,” my mother nudged my shoulder. “There is a man here to see you.”
I frowned and rolled over to peer at the clock beside the bed. Just after eight in the morning. Too early for visitors. “Tell him to go away.”
“That is rude. Now get up. I will make breakfast.”
I squinted up at her and couldn’t help the swell of love that rolled through me. She was looking whole and healthy, her wounds healed and her smiles free.
Doc had stayed here at the house with us and had spent as much time with my mother as with me in the past days since I returned from New York, basically taking us on as personal, full-time clients. Other than mandatory time in the studio or that one gig, I was here, with Doc, working through the shit that had pushed my wife away. I’d apologized to Lance and the guys for all the shit I’d done, promised I’d do better. It didn’t seem like enough, but they accepted it, and me, and though a part of me still didn’t feel like I deserved it, I pushed on, my attention on getting better for my wife.
At home, we kept the TV off and I’d even turned over my phone to Doc, spending this time focused on what JJ had said before she left.
All you can see is shame. I can’t compete with that.
I didn’t want her to compete with anything, but I had to find a way to see more. I just didn’t know how, but I was starting to. Bit by bit as my mother and I worked together with Doc, I was starting to. If only JJ could give me another chance...
“Hurry up!” my mom prodded as she moved out the door, making me wonder who the heck was here this early and why my mother and Doc trusted them enough to let them in.
I got up and pulled on some clothes, then sauntered out to join them, the scents of bacon and coffee making my stomach growl.
Doc was nowhere in sight, probably off doing her morning yoga. My mother was smiling at the man drinking coffee at the kitchen table.
He rose when I entered, his smile easy, his green eyes crinkling from behind funky glasses. He was easily mid-thirties, but his ripped jeans and rock t-shirt made him look younger. “Mr. Santorini. It is so nice to finally meet you.” I accepted his handshake, his pleasant energy infectious. “I’m Alan Zemecki with Rock You Magazine. Your wife set up this appointment so we could feature you in our next edition. I’ve gotta say, I’m a huge fan of Zero Energy and I’ve been so stoked about this!”
I felt my mom’s pleased smile as she dished up plates for both of us and we sat, silently prodded by her Italian mothering. I wasn’t quite sure how to navigate this without JJ here. She was the PR person in this relationship.
Alan salted his eggs and continued on as if we were old friends. “JJ assured me it was fine that she was tied up today.” He took a bite of toast as I glanced at him in surprise. “She said you wouldn’t mind showing me the house and letting me get a few shots.”
“She did?” I nearly choked.
“Yeah. She was so kind. Said she didn’t want to have to reschedule again.” He sipped his coffee, his energy frankly making me a bit tired even though I’d just gotten up. “I met her yesterday afternoon. Interviewed her. We’ll splice things up with your interview and the shots of the house. We’ll make it work.”
“You interviewed her?”
He nodded and smiled over at my mom. “This is delicious.”
She smiled back, enjoying the praise and having someone to cook for besides me since Doc was such a health nut.
“How did it go?” I prompted, subtly trying to get the subject back to JJ, hungry for information about her since we hadn’t talked in days. By my own choosing, but still. I only hoped Doc’s assistant had explained things well enough like she was supposed to so that JJ understood.
“Great.” He chewed and swallowed. “She looked a little tired.” His gaze grew more serious as it met mine. “But it was good.”
A weird feeling slithered through me, like he knew more than he was letting on, but he was being professional enough not to say anything. I nodded and turned back to my food, not sure what else to say.
We finished our breakfast and I let him lead the conversation as I gave him a tour of the condo. He mostly asked me about the band—how we met, our writing process, how we handle disagreements, that kind of stuff. He did circle around to me and JJ and our relationship, but he kept it pretty basic, formulating the questions so the answers were buried in them.
“So, JJ tells me you had a pretty whirlwind romance. Is that how you would characterize it?”
I swallowed and picked at my thumbnail, thinking of our wedding night. “That’s a good word for it.”
“Was it love at first sight?”
I glanced over at him, seeing it was a sincere question. “No,” I said.
“No?”
I shook my head. “No. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve seen my wife, she’s a smoke show. But it takes more than that to fall in love with someone, right? It takes seeing their heart. Their soul. And JJ’s... they’re...” I shrugged. “Priceless.”
It hit me then, softer than a feather, yet heavier than a two-ton boulder. I couldn’t hold this woman, didn’t deserve her, yet she was the single most important thing in my broken world. I had somehow shifted from a life of pure, unadulterated selfishness to the knife’s edge point of my universe revolving solely around her. Nothing else mattered. Not my image, not my band, definitely not my life. Not without her...
We made it through the rest of the interview even though I could hardly focus, and he grabbed a few photos of me and my home drum kit that JJ and I had squeezed into the den area before he thanked me profusely for my time and I walked him to the front door.
He reached for my hand again. “It really was a pleasure to meet you, Nico.”
“Same.”
“I’ll email you a draft of the article as soon as I piece it together. Probably late tonight or tomorrow.”
I didn’t bother telling him I was basically staying offline. “That quick?”
He shrugged with a half grin. “I told you, I’ve been excited about this one. Plus, after I met with JJ, I got started on the rough draft and a layout. Shouldn’t be hard to add the stuff from today and finalize things.”
I nodded. “I look forward to it.”
His smile grew. “Can’t wait to hear what you think.” He took several steps toward his car, then waved. “And congratulations on everything! Exciting stuff, man. Nothing like it!”
I waved back, confused. “Thanks.” Guess he really was pumped for the new album.
I went back inside and found my mother cleaning up the dishes, humming to herself at the sink. I stopped, momentarily transported back in time to one of my few happy childhood memories when she was doing much the same thing after a rare peaceful dinner, my father away on business, my brother and I playing with toy cars on the kitchen floor. I let the nostalgia fill me, then I gently pushed it aside to allow room for this new memory. She was here. She was healing. She was happy. Even with the uncertainty of the future, I couldn’t ask for much more.
“Where’s Doc?” I asked, realizing she’d been suspiciously absent during Alan’s visit.
My mother turned and faced me. “She mentioned something about spending time with her children today. She wanted to give you privacy for your interview.”
I frowned. “She knew about this?”
She shrugged. “I guess JJ called her.”
I was suddenly feeling very left out of the loop and regretting giving up all contact to the outside world. “Have you spoken to her?”
“To who?”
“My wife.” The word felt foreign but soothing on my tongue. She was still my wife until divorce papers were inked. I was banking on her love and capacity for forgiveness.
“No. Why? Have you?” She’d been hounding me for days, telling me that I was an idiot for shutting JJ out when I needed her most and pleading with me to not isolate myself. It nearly broke me when I heard her up pacing the floors and praying for me late at night.
I sighed, not answering.
I spent the rest of the day journaling and messing with some tunes until I heard Doc return to the condo.
She didn’t make me go looking for her, poking her head in my open bedroom door. “How was your day? The interview go okay?”
I set my pen down and glanced up. “It was good.”
She stepped in and leaned against the doorway, clearly waiting for me to elaborate.
I took in her surprisingly sedate clothing choices of dark blue jeans and a white turtleneck. The only real Dr. Evans’ notes were in the chunky turquoise necklace and her thick multicolored glasses. “JJ told you,” I said.
“She did.” She eyed me, waiting for me to continue. Give her a clue how I felt about it. When I didn’t, she went on. “She also texted me to ask how you were and to let me know the drafts of the article had been emailed to you both. It sounds like she’s anxious for you to read it.”
“Do you know why?”
She shook her head, but I couldn’t read her. Had JJ said something about the current shitty state of our marriage in her interview that was now going to be printed for the world to see? Done some PR trick and mentioned we might divorce? That I’d fallen off the wagon? Had she prepped Doc so she’d keep me from losing my shit?
“You don’t?” I prompted. “You haven’t read it?”
“I haven’t.” She drew my phone from the back pocket of her jeans, holding it in her hand instead of giving it to me right away. “But... she did mention I should be close by when you read it. Just in case.” Her expression was apologetic. Sad.
Slowly, I reached out, asking for the phone. I could do this. Whatever it was, whatever JJ had decided, I could handle it. I’d been doing the work, and I was ready to face it. It was time.
Slowly, I took a breath and powered up the phone.
The first thing that greeted me were so many missed calls and text messages, it was dizzying. I focused on the ones from my wife first. I saw several calls, then a final text.
I’m not sure who that slut was in your lap or on your phone, but for better or worse does not include adultery. If your dick has touched another woman, I’m out, six months or not. Call me when you’re sober.
What the...?
My brain scrambled to make sense of her words. I checked the date and tried to piece together why she’d be saying that. It took a minute, but I finally landed on the night of our last live gig. Sure, there’d been groupies, but nothing out of the ordinary, and I hadn’t... I’d never. She knew that, didn’t she?
I groaned in disgust, wondering what she was thinking all this time that I hadn’t been explaining because I’d checked out.
Desperate, I glanced up at Doc. “Your assistant talked to her, right? Explained what we were doing? Why I was out of touch?”
Doc actually paled. “I think so. But I had to fire that girl so I’m not altogether sure.” She took in my face. “Did she not tell JJ? Oh my goodness, I knew she wasn’t trustworthy!”
“Not trustworthy how?”
“I caught her going through the things in my office and some petty cash went missing. I fired her on the spot.”
Slut in my lap or on my phone...
“Could she have gotten to my phone?”
Doc’s gaze darted between my face and my cell several times. “I... I don’t think... I’m not sure.”
I groaned.
“Oh no.” Doc’s hand flew to her throat. “What did she do?”
“I’m not sure.” I moved to call her but the email inbox icon stopped me. Something told me to open that story first. See what she’d allowed to go to print.
I opened my email and ignored Alan’s nauseatingly cheerful greeting, immediately opening the attached article, not prepared for the words that filled my screen.
Rock ‘n’ Roll, Baby!
By Alan Zemecki
Rock’s favorite bad boy, Nico Santorini, will be trading in his drumsticks for diaper duty when he and his wife, JJ Johnson-Santorini, welcome a baby this fall...
The rest of the article was a fluff piece about our love story and my time with Zero Energy, including photos of both of us, artfully placed so it wasn’t obvious we had been interviewed separately, including one JJ must’ve provided of our wedding night.
But I couldn’t focus on any of that, my brain stuck on that headline that just did not compute with the last text message from her I’d just read.
She’d threatened to leave my cheating, addict ass... then announced her pregnancy in a magazine? What. The. Hell.
“Nico?” Doc asked softly. “Is everything alright?”
I dropped my hand with the phone in it. “Honestly? I have no fucking clue.”
She frowned in confusion, so I showed her the article. It took her a couple of minutes to read, her eyes eventually lifting to mine, gauging me with a new light. “Nico,” she said, a new tenderness in her voice. “You’re going to be a father.”
Tears threatened, hearing her say those words. Why was I hearing them for the first time from my therapist and not my wife? This was all kinds of messed up. “Am I? I’m not sure what to think right now.”
“What do you mean?”
I shook my head and got up to pace, agitated and emotional, my brain struggling to process everything that was being thrown at it. “Look at the texts.”
She did and I could practically hear her thinking out loud, I’d come to know Doc so well. Eventually, I spun to face her, waiting to hear her thoughts, her calmness and even thinking my touchstone.
“She sent that before the article,” Doc said calmly. “When we’re assuming my assistant did something to screw this up and she had no idea you were taking some more time with me. Look at it from her perspective, Nico. Think.”
I raked a hand over my head, grabbing two fistfuls of my hair. “I can’t.” I met Doc’s eyes. “I need to see her.”
“Then go. But make sure you’re calm when you do. Remember all the work you’ve done.”
I nodded and she left me alone. I tugged on some boots and grabbed my wallet, keys, and phone before heading out, feeling like a prisoner leaving jail after a year. I kept the car silent as I followed her phone’s location to Stassia’s.
When I pulled into the lot and saw her car, an overwhelming rush of relief and love roared through me. Suddenly, I wasn’t upset or confused anymore. I just wanted to see her again. Hold her. Fix this.
I parked and killed the engine, uncoiling to stand. As I closed my door, Stassia came down the walkway with a bag of trash, headed for the dumpster. She slowed when she spotted me, her expression a mix of uncertainty, relieved, and protective.
“Hey,” I said.
She chucked the bag in the dumpster and faced me down, hands on her hips. “What do you want?”
“Is she here?” I knew she was, but I didn’t want to be a pushy asshole. Not now.
“Depends. Why do you want to see her?”
My thumb automatically traced the underside of my titanium band, reassuring myself. “We need to talk,” I said cryptically.
“Not good enough. She’s not up for more of your bullshit right now, Santorini, so you can just fuck off. I’ll take care of her.”
I bit back a sigh, appreciating that she was protective of my wife. Especially when I hadn’t been here to do it. “Look,” I said. “There’s been a misunderstanding. Things she doesn’t know and I need to explain.”
She crossed her arms, silently demanding I explain to her first.
“I didn’t cheat.”
She lifted a brow.
“The girl who answered my phone was my therapist’s assistant. Nothing more and she was nothing to me. I never even met her. She shouldn’t have had it at all. She was fired.”
“Go on.” She seemed intrigued but warming up to me.
“That same assistant was supposed to let JJ know I was going offline to work on my shit with my therapist for a while. She obviously didn’t. Like I said... misunderstanding.” I tucked my hands into my jean pockets and decided fuck it. She was JJ’s best friend. She might as well know the truth. “I’m a fuckup and I don’t deserve her. I know that. She knows that. But I’ve been working my ass off to be better so I can have a shot at a life with her because... well, that’s something I’d like to talk to her about if that’s okay.” I shrugged. “And I saw that article. It looks like we really have more to talk about, don’t we?”
I stood silently, letting her digest all that. Finally, she softened, a gentle smile floating across her lips. “Yeah. You do. So...” She glanced back toward the door she’d just come from. “I can take a little evening stroll around the park here in the complex. The front door is unlocked. She’s lying down in the guest room. She’s been a little nauseous and tired lately.” With that, she spun and strolled away in the opposite direction, leaving me staring at her back.
I shook my head and took off toward her apartment. I didn’t bother knocking, just letting myself in since she said it was open. The room was dim, only a small lamp burning next to the couch, and the place smelled of black cherry and a hint of chocolate. I closed the door and walked down the hall, guessing that the guest room must be the only closed door on the left.
I cracked the door open without knocking. Bingo. JJ’s sleeping form lay curled up on her left side, her back to me, her golden hair spread out on the pillow as the fading sunlight kissed her skin in golden orange and pink. She was covered in a fuzzy black blanket that she’d taken from home, and as I stepped in her room, I was assailed with a big hit of her scent, making me dizzy. God, I’d missed her.
As I neared and gazed down at her, her right hand was curled gently over her stomach and my heart lurched. No matter what happened after tonight, we were going to have a child. A baby. My baby. The idea was so awe-inspiring, I almost couldn’t wrap my mind around it.
I hated to wake her so I lay down with her, wrapping myself around her, my chest to her back, cupping my hand over hers at her belly, and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.
After a moment, I felt it when her breathing changed, and I knew she was coming awake. She didn’t move but I knew she was aware of me.
“Nico,” she whispered my name.
“I’m here, baby.”
“You saw the article.” It wasn’t a question but there were definite questions in her voice. She wanted to know what I was thinking.
I nuzzled my nose between her neck and shoulder, breathing her in. “I did.”
She stayed still, waiting for me to speak. To react.
“I’m sorry, JJ,” I said, still holding her close so my breath was a whisper across her flesh. “You were supposed to know.”
“Know what?”
“Everything.” So I told her. How broken I’d felt. That Doc helped me to unplug and work on myself so I could be the man she deserved, or at least try to be, but that her assistant had done us dirty. When I was done, I nudged her to flip over so we were face-to-face. “I’d never cheat on you, JJ. Never.”
Her eyes searched mine in the dim room. “Okay.”
“Just okay? I need you to say you believe me.”
“I believe you.”
“Can you forgive me?” I murmured, my mother’s chiding heavy in my heart. “I know I shouldn’t have shut you out. I just wanted to do it alone so you wouldn’t feel like I wanted you to fix me. I had to do it. You understand?”
Her expression softened. “I don’t like it, but I understand it.”
I’d take what I could get. I was just so damn thankful I hadn’t lost her. I reached up and cupped her face, completely and utterly overcome. “I love you,” I said, my voice choked and gritty, tired of holding back those words.
Surprise lit her features, making her blue eyes sparkle. “Say it again.”
Instead, I leaned down and stole a kiss from her smiling lips, needing some of her sunshine. I swallowed her sweetness, tasting her joy, even after this screwed-up day, which only made me love her more. “I love you,” I murmured between kisses. “So fucking much.” I worshipped her mouth, holding her head captive with my fingers forked through her luscious hair. “Too much.”
She drew back when the front door opened and closed loudly, her breathing ragged and her gaze heartfelt. “There’s no such thing as loving someone too much.”
“You sure about that?” I stroked her bottom lip with my thumb.
“I wasn’t before.” Her heart shone in her eyes, reflecting my own as she linked one of her hands with mine and guided our palms to cover our growing child. “But I am now.”