Chapter 20 Ethan
ETHAN
Istared down at my phone, my heart in my throat, the magazine with Rosalie on the cover, kissing Anson, beside me.
Another with the headline about a severed head being found in her dressing room after a show was under it.
No leads, and the head belonged to someone who attended a local college near the venue and was a fan of Bishop.
Enzo had sent out a few men to look into things, but nothing turned up. And Cole had taken to pouring himself into his remodel at our old house and had been sleeping there all week.
I felt like it was time to reach out to her. It didn’t matter if she was married or if I was going to take Cole’s place in the contract with the underground.
Married.
My sweetheart had gotten married.
FUCK.
I’d be lying if I said my heart wasn’t a pile of ash in my chest at the news. Sure, I knew it would eventually happen, but I guess I was holding out hope for a miracle of some sort.
I breathed out and thumbed out a message to her—the first in over four years.
I’d been fighting with myself all evening over sending it, but I knew I had to do it.
I wasn’t the same pathetic mess I was half a decade ago, and I was sure Enzo was closer than ever to reaching out to Church about the contract since Cole had gone silent on us.
Ethan: I heard the news about your marriage. Congratulations, Rosalie.
It took me a moment before I closed my eyes and hit send on the message, my guts twisted in nausea. I figured it was a decent enough gateway to a conversation.
I’d been holding out, waiting to get her back. Four years of turmoil. Of wondering how I could even approach her after everything.
And this was how.
Damnit.
It was stupid of me to think she’d wait. I was a father now, for fuck’s sake. The entire reason for making her go was to keep her from finding out my sins.
But hell, I wouldn’t give my son up for a damn thing. While it hurt to experience and be robbed, he brought so much joy and purpose into my life that I wouldn’t change that for a damn thing.
I didn’t expect a message back. I’d resigned to being a bachelor forever with the memory of us to hold me over until I died and got to see her again. In fact, I assumed she’d changed her number after becoming famous and had deleted my number long ago, but my phone pinged a moment later.
Rosalie: Ethan… thank you. How are you?
I swallowed hard as I stared down at that message. She hadn’t deleted me. I didn’t know how to answer, but I was damn desperate to.
Ethan: I’m well. How are you?
I waited, feeling like an idiot for asking her how she was. Obviously, not good since she had a stalker who was beheading her fans, but her answer was almost immediate.
Rosalie: I’m OK. Busy. That’s life, though, right? It could always be better.
I smiled. Still honest as always.
Ethan: Busy is good. I watched your livestream of your Boston show. I’m proud of you. So much.
Rosalie: Thank you. That means a lot to me.
I stared at the message for a moment before blowing out a breath and saying fuck it. I was going to shoot my shot, even though it was stupid as hell. I wanted her to know me before I went away forever with Enzo.
Ethan: Would it be out of line if I called you?
Rosalie: I’ll always answer.
I smiled sadly at her words, remembering her telling me that the last time I saw her all those years ago.
With a shaky hand, I tapped her name as the phone rang. She answered immediately.
“Ethan,” she said in her soft, sweet voice.
“Hey,” I answered back. So many memories and emotions ripped through my body. One finally settled. Happiness. “It’s good to hear your voice.”
“It’s good to hear yours,” she murmured. “It’s been too long.”
“It has,” I agreed, shifting on my mattress.
I exhaled nervously. I wanted this conversation to be effortless, but I already felt the struggle at hearing her voice.
I was an idiot to think I could do this.
She always had a way to unravel me. Of course, back then, she was really the only thing holding me together, too.
“I saw you’ve been nominated for more Grammys. That’s really incredible.”
“Yeah.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “It doesn’t seem real.”
“It does,” I said, smiling and relaxing a bit. “You’re incredible. I watched your live show in London last year and your Boston one. I was floored. Seriously. You’ve done amazing things and deserve every ounce of success you’ve had.”
“You’ve always been sweet,” she said with a soft laugh.
I smiled sadly at that. “Same guy. Mostly.”
“Are you?” she asked.
“Uh.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “No. Not really.”
“You sound different,” she mused. “Happy. Older.”
“I am,” I said, laughing at the older part. “I’ve gotten my shit together, so life is good. I feel good.”
“God, I’m so happy to hear that.”
“I actually don’t really use anymore. Haven’t in a long time,” I continued delicately. “I mean, I might with the guys now and then, but I don’t rely on it anymore. It’s been a different sort of life since everything.”
“I’m really impressed,” she said. “And so damn proud of you. Really. I am. I prayed every night for you. I still do.”
“I prayed for you, too,” I murmured. “We were probably wishing on the same star. No more nightmares. Nothing. I’m a different man these days.”
“God, Ethan, that makes me so happy. You don’t even realize just how much.”
“I believe you,” I said.
We were both quiet for a moment.
“I heard about the… stalker,” I said.
She remained quiet, and I had to pull the phone away from my ear to make sure she was still connected.
“Yeah, well, I’m sure. It’s… terrible. I’m terrified to leave my room.” Her voice shook, and anger surged through me.
“What’s being done to protect you?” I asked.
“Everything,” she murmured. “More security. We’ve canceled a week of shows. We had to refund the fans. I didn’t know fame could be so terrible.”
“But it’s good too, right?” I asked, trying to guide her to the silver lining.
“It is good,” she said. “It’s my dream. I just don’t like how someone is trying to make it ugly. I want a break from all that.”
“I get it.” I looked down at my feet for a moment before asking what I needed to ask.
“How is Anson?” I ventured, my voice thick.
“Um, good. He’s good. He’s not here right now. There was a meeting he had to be at tonight. It’s a dinner thing for the label. I didn’t want to go. Or rather, didn’t think I should go. Ryder and Trent are here with me.”
“I’m glad you didn’t go,” I said. “Because I got to talk to you.”
She laughed softly. “I’m glad too. Those dinners can be so boring, but Anson wants to keep up appearances.”
I swallowed hard. “How is married life with him? Good?”
She was quiet for so long, I didn’t think she’d answer me.
Finally, her soft voice came over the line.
“I didn’t marry Anson.”
My heart jumped at her words.
“Y-You didn’t? Who did you marry? I-I thought it was Anson. All the media say it was. There was even a picture of you two kissing and his social media…”
She scoffed. “They’re vultures. But no, Anson and I aren’t married.
I do have a husband, but he doesn’t like being the center of the media.
We did it to draw attention to Anson, so maybe this creep will make a mistake and show himself.
Plus, it put a different light on us instead of the tragic stalker story. ”
“Is it that guy from Fatal Promise? Riley? Or that Fabian actor guy you’re seeing?” I knew she had to be seeing someone.
“Why do you want to know so much?”
I licked my lips. “I guess because I should congratulate him on getting such a perfect girl. Tell him he’s lucky as hell. Tell him… I don’t know.” I shook my head. “Is it… Klaus?”
She laughed softly. “No. It’s not Klaus. We didn’t marry.”
I figured as much. I knew she dated him before she left, but I wasn’t sure about the status of all that. Plus, Levin never mentioned his father or Rosalie. The one time Cole asked him, he’d given him the finger. I assumed that meant that the relationship was over.
“Oh.” I cleared my throat, needing to put this thought to bed. “Will you tell me his name?”
“Evan,” she said, her voice so soft I had to press the phone closer to my ear to hear her. “His name is Evan. He stays out of the spotlight. He’s the one I married. Anson does a really good job keeping my private life private. I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone his name.”
“I won’t,” I promised, meaning it, my heart hurting a little more. “Your secrets are safe with me. I would die to protect them.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice shaky at my proclamation. “He likes his privacy. I want him to have it. We are letting the public believe it’s Anson. It makes it easier for everyone.”
I nodded, my throat tight. So not Anson. Fuck. That made it even worse.
“H-How did you meet him?” I ventured, hoping I wasn’t going to get my feelings hurt further.
“Anson,” she murmured. “He, um, introduced us. In Colorado. It was love at first sight.”
I wiped at my eyes. “I know the feeling.”
“You’ve met someone?” Her voice shook.
“No,” I said immediately. “No. I don’t date. I don’t even talk to women past business or the work I do with Mayfair. I was talking about the first time I saw you. It was love at first sight.”
She was quiet again. “We shouldn’t talk to one another like this.”
“Like what?” I asked gently. “I’m not trying to hit on you—”
“I loved you at first sight, too,” she cut in. “In case you didn’t know. I guess I wasn’t sure what it was at the time, since I was young and had no experience, but I did. I knew you were…” her voice trailed off.
“That I was what?” I pressed, desperate to hear what she had to say.
“The one,” she finished sadly.