Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
Yosh
Sitting here, sorting through the mess in my head, I realize how far I am from the person I want to be. Maybe never will be.
Terrence set a trap and I walked right into it, all because I can’t control my emotions. If only I could shut them off like a light switch, maybe I could have saved myself from this downfall.
Tom breaking down was perfect for him. Terrence took his opportunity and I was too blind to see that Tom was just bait.
He wanted me to lose my shit in front of my coworkers. That was his plan all along. If Erin hadn’t stepped in, I would have been fired on the spot.
If this is going to be business as usual, I don’t want the position anymore.
Then again, the thought of Terrence as my superior would be hell.
So the way I see it, this job is turning into a game of eat or be eaten.
Or I could just quit, pack my stuff and disappear. Do what I’ve always done. It’s easy.
Except, I don’t want that life anymore. I want to stay and settle down. I deserve that.
Facing Tom, I catch him smiling at me. The last rays of sunlight caressing his features and setting his hair ablaze in a thousand shades of gold. He looks like a sun god, though there’s something sad in his eyes. His smile disappears like the last traces of amber in the ocean.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I want to talk. I need to talk, because if I don’t, I know for sure it will hurt me again tonight.”
“Okay, I’m listening.”
Again he shakes his head, burying his feet deeper in the sand.
“Take your time,” I say gently.
“Oh god, I don’t even know where to start.”
“You don’t need to do this now if you’re not ready.”
“Yeah, I have to. It’s time.”
He moves his palm over the sand until it rests on my fingers. I flinch.
“Do you mind? I like...I like the contact...”
Don’t.
“...I’m that kind of person,” Tom adds, almost hesitant.
Said one touch-starved person to the other.
I give him a faint smile. “It’s fine. You can hold my hand.”
A mummified mitten doesn’t count.
He sighs, focusing on the horizon.
“Half Moon Wolves, that first year after our breakthrough was surreal. Nonstop gigs across the UK, every weekend blurring into the next. Suddenly we were touring all over Europe, then Jay fell in love and, just like that, Amsterdam had become our new home. He called it a base, but we all knew he just wanted to be close to his girlfriend. Not that we cared. After growing up in poverty in Scotland, a fresh start felt like the kind of change we all needed. And in many ways, it was.”
I was right, his childhood in Scotland was just the beginning. He’s about to dig deeper now.
"How did you feel about moving to Amsterdam?"
He shrugs. “I didn’t have much of a choice. I was twelve or thirteen and Jay had custody of me, so wherever he went, I followed. But over the years, Amsterdam grew on me, and it became my shelter.”
"Did you feel like you needed that shelter?"
That’s when I feel the rough scrape of his bandage against my skin as he tightens his grip around my hand.
And despite the chorus of angels on my shoulder telling me not to do it, my long-lost pal Luci whispers in my ear that I should.
So I do.
I turn my hand over, letting it mold to the shape of Tom’s palm. He holds it like I'm a long lost friend.
“Soon after moving to Amsterdam, Jay and his girlfriend... Emily, had a baby, my niece, Joan. Life was hectic. We were constantly on the road, crossing Europe for shows, while Emily was home alone with Joan, struggling. On the rare days we were back, Emily and Jay fought. A lot. I’d escape to my room, put on my headphones, and play with Joan.
I remember one night when their arguing got so bad that I took Joan upstairs and taught her to walk. That was pretty cool. She’s my best friend now."
He grins. Then his face tightens.
“I was fourteen when we finished our second European tour and Jay decided we should celebrate. He rented a villa in Germany, somewhere deep in the forest.”
Tom’s face scrunches.
“It was autumn. Leaves everywhere on the icy ground. I can still hear them crunch.”
The way he forces out those last words puts me on high alert. I study his face. He looks like he’s slipping into a trance, eyes distant. Something crucial is happening inside his mind.
“What happened at the villa?” I ask.
His fingers drum against his knee. A second passes. Another.
“I have a daughter. Her name is Evelyn, Effy. She’s the reason I came to Arcadia. I want to work on myself so I can become the father she needs”
I blink twice. Didn’t see that one coming. It's surprising, sure, but I can roll with this.
"Ahh, so you have a little girl? How old?"
"She’s nineteen."
Wait, what? My breath stops as I do the math. I try to keep my expression neutral, but I know I’m failing. He sees it.
“You’re judging me,” he gives me a sharp look and pulls his hand away.
“No, I'm not judging you. It’s just.. I didn’t expect that.”
“Yeah, I know, I was fourteen. It happened that weekend at the villa. We partied, everyone was drunk except me—Jay never let me drink. I went outside for some fresh air and sat alone in the garden when Emily found me. We talked for hours. I was about to go to bed when she kissed me. And things… escalated. Fast.”
He lets out a short, cynical laugh.
“The next day she called it a mistake. Told me I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone, and I didn’t. I swore to myself I would never talk about it.
His lips part like he’s about to say more, but before he can, the roar of two Sea-Doos on the horizon pulls his attention away. I bring him back.
“Did Jay find out?”
Tom lets out a bitter laugh, rolling his eyes. “Oh, Jay found out.”
His hands are trembling.
“She came clean to Jay and said I had to be the father. He lost it completely. I ended up in the hospital. Broken ribs, broken jaw, bruises everywhere.”
Instinctively, I grab his hand again. This makes me sick to my stomach. I want to scream, rant, do anything but sit here in silence, but I can’t.
I’m here to create a safe space and listen to the things he’s never dared to say out loud.
I shut my eyes for a moment, coaxing my thoughts to slow and my breath to follow.
Tom goes on.
“It was all over the tabloids that I was hospitalized. Jay told everyone I’d got into a bar fight and I…I went along with it. Told the police the same thing. I didn't want the band to fall apart.”
A tear falls down before he can wipe it away. “It was my—”
“No.” I cut in. “This wasn’t your fault. None of it was.”
Tom lets out a hollow laugh. “Yeah, whatever. Days later, Jay apologized, and he and Emily decided we needed to ‘handle it as a family’.”
He scoffs. “As if that would fix anything.”
Tom pauses to push himself up from the sand with a frustrated sigh. “These bugs are eating my ankles alive, and it’s pissing me off that I can’t even scratch with these stupid bandages.” He wiggles his fingers. “I feel like a dinosaur with useless little arms.”
Neither of us laughs.
“Let’s go to my car,” I say quietly.
We make our way up the stairs. When we reach the parking lot, my car is the only one left. Tom doesn’t say a word as we climb in. I turn the key in the ignition, but before I can shift into gear, his hand closes around my wrist.
“Wait.”
I glance at him. His face is half in shadow, which makes his expression unreadable.
“I want to stay. I want to tell you everything.”
I kill the engine and remain silent.
Night has settled over the island. The moon creates a silver light over the rippling waves. The stars seem brighter than usual, or maybe that’s just the absence of city lights hiding them.
“We have all the time in the world.” My hand settles back on his. “We can stay all night if you need to.”
His warm, grateful eyes hold mine. He gives me a beautiful smile, even if it’s touched with pain.
A hard swallow before he speaks again.
“I kept my distance because I wanted to give Emily and Jay space to figure things out. I honestly didn't know what to do. All I cared about was making music 24/7, what the fuck did I know about babies? Nothing. But then, Effy and Chris were born, and just like that, becoming a father was the best thing that ever happened to me. I’d never felt a greater love in my life.”
I hum softly. I want to know what that feels like. To have a part of you living inside a child and love them, protect them, with a devotion that feels like the most natural thing in the world.
But wait.
Effy. He’s only mentioned Effy before, not Chris.
I don’t want to assume, but the pieces are clicking together fast.
When I see his eyes well up, it feels like a hand grips my throat.
No. Please. Don’t let this be true.
Tom tries to speak, but his voice catches. Then he just… breaks.
Hands cover his face, shoulders shaking, trying to hold it in. But the sobs come anyway.
“Chris… he drowned,” he chokes the words out. “And it’s my fault. It’s my fault he died.”
My eyes dart around, filling with tears, but there’s nowhere to look, nowhere to hide from the gut wrenching thing he's telling me.
Fuck. I can feel his suffering, open and unfiltered. I can’t keep my professional boundaries anymore. I don’t want to.
I take him into my arms. The second my grip tightens around his shoulders, he releases all the tension he's been holding to keep himself together.
Years of it, I can only imagine. I feel it in the way he finally allows himself to float in my embrace.
Warm tears seep into my skin as I cradle the back of his head against my shoulder, fingers threading through the tangled mess of his curls to offer him the comfort of my touch.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “Let it out.”
His breath shudders. “I was…I was supposed to look after them, but we had this long day at the studio, and I…” His face scrunches up, I can feel it. He buries himself deeper into my neck.