Chapter 36 Aria
Aria
Four days have passed since the heavenly scent of Enzo’s pizza woke Aria from her slumber on Griffin’s couch, and after a nice dinner, she left for home.
She stopped by again two days later, toting an over-the-top care package with health supplements, healthy snacks, and interesting beverages.
Aria can’t deny that Griffin didn’t look great as she presented the basket, and when she asked, he admitted he’d really only left home for his medical appointments with the team.
It was obvious how the weight of his situation had set in.
His face was unshaven, his sink full of dishes, and his laundry piled at the end of the couch.
“Perfect! You left me some helper jobs,” Aria had announced as she rolled up her sleeves.
Griffin had turned beet red and rushed to his feet. “No, no. That’s not for you. I’m getting to it, I just needed—”
“It’s okay, Griff. Let me help.”
Griffin pulled his chest up and spoke with a new terseness. “I don’t want you to be my caretaker, Aria. I have people coming for that.”
Aria nodded, dropping her gaze. Why on earth wouldn’t he let her help? She had been more than clear that she wanted to.
Griffin had reached out and cupped her cheek, raising her head so their eyes could meet. Tenderly, he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. Want to hang out in the mess with me and tell me all about your grueling workout today?”
His words paired with his caring touch cast a deep smile across her face. “I come prepared with material.”
It was clear that this post-injury time was new territory for the pair, but it seems to Aria that both she and Griffin are committed to finding their way through it as friends.
Admittedly, with the way he cupped her cheek and raised her head, she couldn’t help but think of a kiss.
For a moment she wished he would, but they had both agreed that was behind them, and it was for the best.
In the time since, Aria has continued with her personal trainer and is slowly building stamina as she alternates running on the treadmill with weight training with swimming and even water aerobics.
Truth be told, Aria sort of loved getting in on the lesson with the senior women in the pool.
They welcomed her as one of their own without the bat of an eye.
Bailey’s been managing a lot of Aria’s press this week.
She has a couple of virtual interviews and an appearance on a talk show in a few weeks to drum up excitement about the nonexistent album that the record label is already teasing.
There isn’t even a title yet, but they’re acting like it’s intentionally secretive as opposed to TBD.
Aria simply cannot find her way with her music.
Griffin brought so much enthusiasm and fun to the studio that day, and in full transparency that’s what Aria’s been craving.
Of course, she’s Aria Wilder, so she would never rely on any single person for her success, but she also can’t deny that life with Griffin sidelined doesn’t have the same kick.
She thinks about the energy he brought to the studio, his pure belief in her ability to execute the music she’s secretly dreamed of.
He might just be the first friend who’s made Aria more herself, who’s dialed up who she is at her core.
Aria pulls into the garage from her Pilates class—part of today’s training plan—and Bailey is in the kitchen unloading groceries. Aria tags in, grabs a bag of pantry items, and heads across the kitchen to put them away.
“I have good news and bad news,” Bailey announces from inside the fridge. She reappears with old takeout containers that she walks to the trash.
“Hit me with the good news first.”
“Glam Girl magazine wants you for a cover story! They’re asking about March. I know it’ll be right before you hit the road, so I wanted to run it by you before I said yes.”
“Amazing! Yes, of course!”
Bailey drops the containers into the trash, and they land with a thud.
“Bad news: Griffin canceled on your appearance at the Wardens Fan Fest. Kelsey said his team wants him resting.” Bailey nods kindly.
“I totally get it, but also, it would suck for him. He’s benched for the foreseeable future, so hitting the fan zone has to be salt in the wound. ”
Aria ignores the way her stomach drops with disappointment. “Yes, that’s understandable.” She dips into the pantry and calls over her shoulder, “When’s our next thing?”
“Kelsey said Griffin needs to pause on engagements until his knee is healed up some. He’s really only supposed to move around as needed right now.
” Bailey balls the reusable bags up into one another.
“She said something about him getting surgery, so I imagine he’ll be holed up after that for a good while. ”
Aria remains inside the walk-in pantry for a moment longer than strictly necessary.
She lets her face drop. Surgery? The news itself isn’t surprising.
It’s the fact that discovering this through her sister, through his publicist, highlights the space that’s grown between her and Griffin.
Why wouldn’t he have mentioned an update like that himself?
Why didn’t he ask to talk through it with her?
Every time she’s seen him, she’s asked about his knee.
And every time he has brushed off the conversation, using the same excuse that discussing it is overkill, salt in the wound.
“I guess he didn’t tell you?” Bailey says to Aria as she emerges from the pantry.
Aria shakes her head, pressing her lips into a line. “Nope. Honestly? I sorta hate it.”
Bailey pinches her face into a quizzical look. “It doesn’t make much sense. The two of you are friends, so why wouldn’t he want a shoulder to lean on?”
Aria shrugs. “Can’t say I’m not wondering the same. Trust me, I’ve been over there. I’m trying to support him, asking about his knee. I can’t help but wonder if maybe he just doesn’t want me to be included in that part of his life.”
“He probably just needs some time to work this out. It’s a big deal. It can impact his career.”
“I get it.” Aria takes her phone from her back pocket and types. She might understand that this injury is a big, messy thing for Griffin to work through, but she’s also not giving up their friendship.
She taps Send, and the message whooshes out across the network.
Aria: Surgery? How am I hearing about this via your publicist?
The dots scroll, then the reply comes in.
Griffin: Sorry. I’m all over the place, and the pain meds they’ve got me on have my brain feeling like molasses.
Aria: Need a post-op ride?
Aria bites her lip in anticipation of the reply.
Griffin: That would be great, but I’ll have to get back to you on details.
Aria “hearts” the message and tucks the phone away.
After the final groceries are put away, Aria and Bailey make a plan to cook dinner together after Aria finishes up in the studio.
Downstairs, everything Aria touches seizes up.
The guitar doesn’t hum with energy, the piano sounds cold, even the mixing board glitches and powers down just as Aria is putting together some beats that sound decent.
Aria relistens to the raw music she recorded with Griffin, and it’s even better than she thought.
She could send it to the label. But then she remembers the unanswered emails in her inbox, the ones that all sound the same:
Hi Aria,
How is the new album coming? Please let us know if you need support.
Even though you’ve always declined, we can always bring in songwriters or other musicians to support creating your vision.
We understand you’re busy with a myriad of commitments.
Please send over some samples soon so we can decide on a title to announce, as well as develop concepts for marketing and packaging.
Respectfully,
Gerald Smith
Worldwide Records
Never before has Aria experienced what feels like inner drought. Like everything she writes is an aspiring musician’s very first attempt at music making.
She keeps her head down until dinner, working as diligently as she can despite the underwhelming output.
Aria does her best to dismiss the thoughts that float into her head unannounced, the ones of Griffin, the ones that worry that things are changing too much between them.