25. Ajay
ajay
. . .
M y fingers are digging into my thighs, surely poking holes in my pockets from the ache I feel on my legs. There’s so much rage building inside of me, mostly aimed at her daughter’s father. I know what it’s like to not have a father, to know the man who conceived you wants nothing to do with you, and I can’t fathom ever being that way with my own child. I don’t even know her daughter but I want her to be mine, to give her a set of parents that care, that love her. I know I’ll love her because she’s Whiskey’s, but the thought of loving her from afar isn’t the life I desire.
Right now, all I want to do is pull Whiskey into my arms and tell her that everything will be okay. In a few short months, I’ll be gone and she can go back to her life. At this point, it makes sense for Saul to file the appeal so we can just be done and both of us can move on. The fact that I’m standing here, thinking about being a father to a little girl that I just met is ridiculous. Whiskey wants to go through with the divorce. We want separate things from life. Hell, we live vastly different lifestyles. And the fact remains that I want her as my wife, but she wants me as an ex.
“What’s so wrong with getting attached, Ajay? I happen to think my kid is awesome.”
“I don’t doubt that she is, but you don’t want her close to someone like me, Whiskey. Once we’re divorced, I won’t come around again. I can see how me being here has messed up your life enough already.”
“What if I want you around?”
“Woman, you’re toying with my emotions here and it’s late, I’m tired and…” Behind me the door to Bailey’s opens and shuts, causing me to turn around. The guys coming out ask Whiskey if she’s okay or if she needs help. One guy sizes me up and the dude is big. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’d beat my ass, so I tell Whiskey I’ll call her later and head across the street to my hotel. It pains me to walk away from her, to leave her in the parking lot, but I’m confident her employees will protect her. When I get to the porch, I turn around and stare at the well-lit parking lot. She’s not there and I can only hope she’s in her car and on her way home or safe back inside Bailey’s with the doors locked behind her.
Thankfully, the nighttime desk clerk of the Inn isn’t anywhere to be seen when I walk in. I climb the stairs two at a time and fish the key out of my back pocket. I had to move it there in order to play tonight. Nothing like having a rigid piece of metal jabbing you in the leg each time you push down on the foot pedal.
After unlocking the door, I step in and let it close on its own. I left the sliding glass door open earlier and decide to go out onto the balcony to take one last look at my little hometown. Once I leave tomorrow, I’m not coming back. I’m going to ask Saul to file the appeal and have the divorce processed immediately. It’s what Whiskey has wanted from the beginning and it’s the least I can do for her.
Back inside, I start to pack because sleeping right now is out of the question. Whiskey’s single and I’m leaving. It doesn’t seem to make much sense in my mind, but in my heart it does. She needs time to figure things out and I’m only in the way, pulling on her heart strings when I beg for time with her.
“You know you should really make sure the door closes when you walk into your hotel room.”
I jump and place my hand over my heart. My breathing is sporadic and coming in short bursts. “What the fuck, woman?” I manage to say. “You just about gave me a heart attack.”
Whiskey walks further into my room and takes a seat on my bed. “You’re the one who didn’t shut your door.”
“What did you do, follow me?”
She nods and a sly smile plays on her lips. “I couldn’t let you leave, not like that.”
I sigh and sit down next to her. “I have to go, Whiskey. We have a tour stop tomorrow and I need to be there.”
“When will you be back?”
The carpet of my hotel room is green with black, white, and red specks mixed throughout. I hadn’t noticed them until now, but I’d rather study them and look for a pattern than to see the disappointment in Whiskey’s eyes.
“Like I said, I’m not coming back.”
“Why not?”
“Whiskey…”
She moves from sitting by my side to sitting on the floor where I have no choice but to look at her. The last thing I want to do is hurt her, to make her suffer through anymore bullshit, and forcing her to spend time with me is just increasing the animosity she feels for me.
“Did you hear what I said back there? When we were in the parking lot?”
I shake my head slowly, telling her the truth. “All night I’ve been hung up on the fact that you have a daughter. I guess I sort of knew but wasn’t sure.”
“How did you know?”
Pulling my phone out, I open the photos app and show her the pictures I found. “Dhara has them on her profile. The little girl, she looks a lot like you, so I assumed, but you hadn’t said anything, and I was too afraid to ask you.”
“Her name is Evelyn.”
“I know, I just have a hard time saying it because part of me doesn’t want her to be real. She’s named after your grandma?”
Whiskey nods. “Grandma passed away when I was about seven months pregnant. At the time, I really hadn’t thought of a name or decided on whether I was going to keep her. I was really messed up back then.”
“That’s my fault.”
Whiskey reaches for my hand and presses it against her cheek. “You may have triggered things, but you weren’t the only issue. Imagine my surprise when I finally tracked down my baby daddy and he tells me under no certain circumstances will he be part of our lives. I spent the last few months of my pregnancy going back and forth with him. He finally agreed to pay child support if I kept my mouth shut.”
“What a fucking douche.”
She nods. “Yep, a rich, stupid douche bag, living the high life in his fancy house with his fancy wife and his private school educated kids. But I won in the end.”
“Because you have Evelyn?”
Whiskey smiles when I say her name. “She’s the best, Ajay. She’s smart, funny, and can turn a shitty day into something salvageable.”
I tug on Whiskey’s hand and nod toward the spot beside me. She sits down and rests her head on my shoulder. “I don’t have much experience with kids,” I tell her. “Chandler’s seven and hangs around the studio some, and then there’s Betty Paige who I see back stage. That’s about it.”
“Who’s Chandler and Betty Paige?”
“Chandler is Keane’s daughter. Betty Paige is Liam’s teenage hellion determined to put her father in an early grave… his words, not mine.”
“Chandler is a girl?”
I nod. “Her mom was a Friends fan, according to Keane. She’s wicked cool though. Loves to read and draw and hates the spotlight.”
“I have a feeling Evelyn’s going to love the spotlight.”
Hearing her say that makes my heart twist. “Whiskey, I don’t think it’s such a good idea to mix her in my world. People pry, they spread rumors, they take photos of you while you’re eating. They’ll follow you around and shove their cameras into your faces, post shit about you on social media. Is that what you want?”
Whiskey stands and goes over to the slider door. She leans against it, staring out into the night. Bailey is quiet now, everyone’s gone home to get ready for their week to start. Bright and early, Nola and Quinn will pull up in front of the Inn and we’ll drive to the airfield where Quinn and I will fly back to the tour bus, and Nola will go home to Malibu.
“I’ve been through a rollercoaster of emotions with you in my life, Ajay. Literally every single one you can think of and probably some that don’t even have names. When your group first played on the radio, I loved the song and then I found out who was in the group and hated every bit of it. Dhara was relentless, though, and would play your music even though I hated it. But when she wasn’t around, I’d listen to it willingly. And then I’d start to wonder what life would’ve been like for us, for Evelyn, because despite her being another man’s child now, she would’ve been ours had we stayed together.”
My girl turns and faces me. “There used to be this show on about a female movie star or musician — I don’t really remember which because it didn’t last long — but I pictured myself as her, walking down some random street with people following her. She acted like she didn’t care, and I thought I could’ve done that. But then I would read articles about celebrities having issues and I started thinking life is too crazy when you’re famous.”
“It’s the only part that I hate. Thankfully though, I’m still a nobody and people don’t bother with me as much as they do with Dana and Quinn. Quinn grew up in the spotlight, he’s used to it. Dana craves it. Me, I just want to play the drums.”
“And Evelyn and I want to be with you.” She walks toward me until she’s standing between my legs. Her arms are resting on my shoulders and her fingers are playing with the back of my neck. I don’t know where to put my hands. Do I leave them on the bed? Put them on the back of her thighs? That’s where I really want to put them, and it seems that my hands know better than I do now. The feel of her legs pressing into my palms is enough to make me forget everything that’s hanging in the balance.
“Evelyn doesn’t know me, Whiskey. She may hate me because I’m not Logan. They looked like they’re pretty close earlier. There’s no denying that they have a connection. She may resent me for taking time away from her when it comes to you. She may hate me because I’m not here. I live in California and there’s no changing that. Have you thought about that? That being with me means you give up your life in Bailey and relocate? Or do you want me to travel back and forth? While that may sound ideal, it doesn’t work, not all the time. The studio we record in is in Los Angeles. I have to be there.”
“You’re the one who said you wanted to be my husband.” She throws my words right back at me.
“You’re right, I did. I was letting my heart get ahead of the bigger picture. I wish I could say that you having a daughter doesn’t change things, but it does. I’m not going to ask you to uproot your life… her life… to accommodate mine. We aren’t kids anymore. We have responsibilities. You have a little human that depends on you, and I’m not going to get in the way of that. I love you, Whiskey. I always have and I always will, but my life is there. Yours is here. I’m not going to ask you to give it up for me. I did that once and look at how things turned out for us.”
“We were young,” she says. “I could’ve fought harder.”
I nod in agreement. “And I could’ve as well, but neither of us did. What does that tell you?”
She slides off my lap and stands in front of me. We’re silent for a long time before she speaks. “What time is your flight?”
“Quinn will be here in a couple of hours. I think it leaves at five.”
“I should probably let you get some sleep.”
I stand and pull her into my arms. “I love you, Whiskey Girl.”
“Then stay,” she whispers into my ear.
“I can’t.”