Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Darcy laid on her back on the couch in the apartment, her arm flung over her face.
She felt so…
She didn’t even know.
She didn’t know what to do. She –
A sharp, unyielding knock on the door cut through into her thoughts. It was the only sound she’d heard in the last twenty-four hours that hadn’t come from the din of music and clashing pins downstairs.
And she didn’t welcome it.
Groaning, she shouted, “I don’t want to talk yet, Blythe!”
“I’m not particularly fond of your sister right now, either.” Juliet’s unmistakable voice sounded from the other side of the door.
Shock jolted through her, and Darcy sprang right up from where she’d been laying for… an undetermined amount of time.
“Can you let me in, now? I caused a bit of a commotion downstairs when I walked in.”
Darcy was already wrenching the apartment door open by the time Juliet had finished speaking, her heart in her throat.
Juliet was always a welcome sight. She was Darcy’s favorite sight.
But it had never felt better to see her than it did right now.
As soon as Juliet stepped across the threshold, Darcy reached for her, wrapping her arms tightly around her and burrowing her face into her shoulder.
She felt Juliet swing the door closed, before she returned the embrace, holding Darcy snugly against her.
Her breath hitched, before trembling out, and she leaned heavily into Juliet. “What are you doing here?” She asked, her words slightly muffled against Juliet’s shirt.
“Blythe texted me.” Juliet’s breath fanned over her ear, as she moved her hands up and down Darcy’s back in a comforting motion.
She tightly squeezed her eyes closed, relishing in it. In the first real feeling of comfort she’d had in the last day, since her world had started to come apart at the seams.
But hearing that was grounding in a way Darcy hadn’t realized she’d needed. Hearing that Blythe reached out to Juliet to check in on Darcy. That she’d respected Darcy’s request for space, and sought Juliet out on her behalf…
No, she hadn’t doubted that Blythe – or Emerson – loved her, despite ending We, The Romantics in one conversation, within forty-eight hours after their first tour. Well, she supposed, their only tour.
Fuck, that hit her right in the chest.
“I didn’t have my phone, or I would have texted you,” Darcy murmured. It was the only reason she’d contemplated going back to Blythe’s. She didn’t have any of her devices; they were all in her suitcase.
“Good,” Juliet stated, firmly.
Darcy could hear the smile in her voice, though, at the confirmation, before Juliet slowly pulled back.
Not completely moving away from her, but enough to be able to look up at her face. To really look at her, in the way that let Darcy know Juliet was seeing everything. Seeing right through her.
She stared right back, offering Juliet everything she had. Wanting her to see everything.
She didn’t expect Juliet’s very serious sigh. “Darcy, honey, I can’t believe I have to talk to you again about walking places alone at night.”
Darcy dropped her head back, laughing. Surprised by it, she let her amusement sweep her away because it felt so damn good.
Juliet didn’t join in on the laughter, nudging Darcy with her elbow. “I’m serious.”
“I know,” she acknowledged, managing to quell her chuckling by digging her teeth into her bottom lip. “I know you are. Because you worry about me.”
She managed to summon the same needling tone she’d used in the past when they’d talked about this.
But this time, Juliet didn’t roll her eyes or scoff. She held Darcy’s gaze with her own, setting her jaw. “Yes, I do. Therefore, I need you to make smart decisions.”
Her amusement faded, melting away. Did she think Juliet slightly overreacted when it came to that? Yeah. Maybe not in L.A., but Pineford?! Regardless, Darcy saw her point, and if it made Juliet feel better about her safety, then, “Okay. I can do that.”
Juliet nodded in satisfaction, before she reached out and took Darcy’s hand in hers. “Now, come. I’m going to hold you.”
Who was Darcy to argue with that? Especially when she very much wanted to be held.
Darcy blinked, waking up a couple of hours later, not having realized she’d even fallen asleep.
But it made sense; she’d barely gotten any rest in the last couple of days. Then Juliet had pulled Darcy’s head onto her shoulder and stroked her fingers through her hair as they laid in bed, and all of the cracked, ragged edges inside of her had started to feel a little soothed.
Some tears had dripped from her eyes into Juliet’s shirt, and she’d then closed them, taking deep breaths.
And somewhere along the line, she’d dozed off.
Juliet was still stroking her fingers through her hair, and Darcy sighed, leaning even more into her touch.
“Feels good,” she murmured.
“That’s the goal,” Juliet whispered back.
It did feel good. Good enough that Darcy felt somewhat refreshed. Like she could finally engage with the world again.
With that, she turned to press a kiss to Juliet’s shoulder, and then pushed herself to sit up, rubbing her hands over her eyes. Which, for the first time in the last day and a half, didn’t feel dry – completely at-odds with the crying she’d had happening.
Juliet was perched against Darcy’s pillows, and she had the memoir Darcy had been reading last night when she’d been unable to sleep in her hand, now laying half-open against her side.
Darcy’s lips ticked into a smile. “Some light reading?”
The memoir was about a woman who had ended up splintering from her life and what she’d always pictured for herself, completely starting over. Darcy thought it was apt.
“Well, you fell asleep, and the book was here. It’s not bad.
” Juliet shrugged, pushing herself up to sit with Darcy, their knees pressed together.
She reached out, dropping her hands to Darcy’s thighs, gently squeezing.
“Okay. Let’s discuss the elephant in the room.
” She paused, frowning thoughtfully before clarifying, “The Blythe and Emerson elephant. How are you feeling?”
“I… don’t really know. I don’t,” she swallowed, tightly. But hey, she didn’t feel like she was about to cry at the thought, so that was an improvement. “I’m – this is my whole life. We, The Romantics. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever gotten a record deal or anything as just me. Just Darcy.”
There were so many variables to consider. So many unknowns that the dissolution of the band presented. She really didn’t know where to start or how to tackle it.
Juliet’s eyebrows furrowed tightly together. The look in her eyes was so intense, like she couldn’t believe what Darcy was saying. “Please know that I’m not impugning Blythe and Emerson, here–”
Darcy interjected jokingly, “I thought you were mad at them?”
At least, she was judging by Juliet’s comment about not being happy with her sister when she’d arrived.
“I am.” Juliet’s tone was not joking. “But sooner rather than later, you’re going to be over being mad at them.”
And Juliet was absolutely correct about that. Darcy could already feel that negative knot of emotions sitting heavily in the pit of her stomach loosening. Anger, really, hadn’t even been close to the top of her list.
“Emerson is gifted at playing music. I’ve seen it.
Blythe is an incredible performer. I’ve seen it.
I know that they both have strengths. And I know how strongly you feel that they made you better.
” Juliet’s dark eyes searched hers, holding and not letting go.
She reached out, tucking Darcy’s hair back behind her ear, then tracing lightly down her neck. “But, honey, you are the real deal.”
Hearing Juliet sound so certain, and knowing that Juliet wouldn’t lie to her, made Darcy’s breath catch.
When Blythe and Emerson had broken the news, Darcy had felt the inherent confidence she had in her abilities shake in a way she’d never felt before.
If Blythe and Emerson didn’t believe in her, in them…
“There is absolutely no doubt that a solo career is well within your grasp, if that’s what you want to do.
I promise you, Darcy, I bet my life on that fact.
If/when you contact Copper Canyon, they are going to jump at the option to sign your next album.
Whether it’s you alone or with a group, they’re going to want it. ”
Juliet’s conviction worked through Darcy in the best way possible. Because, somewhere along the line, she’d really come to trust Juliet. In a way she couldn’t quite put into words.
Even so, she blew out a deep, shaky breath. “It’s just… I really like being a part of the group? I don’t – I don’t know,” she repeated, shaking her head.
Maybe it was just that she hadn’t seriously ever thought about being on her own. Not since they’d formed We, The Romantics when she’d been seventeen. Before then, she’d had daydreams of what she’d do after high school. Like perhaps she’d go to Nashville and try to make something of herself.
But she’d never made any real plans.
And once she’d shifted into thinking about herself in terms of her, Blythe, and Emerson as a unit… that had been it. She’d never gone back to thinking about herself as a solo act.
“Well, I’ll be here with you while you figure things out,” Juliet asserted.
Then she cast a glance around Darcy’s small bedroom, tilting her head back and forth.
“Ideally, perhaps, not here, in this exact apartment. Darcy, I thought you said the people in Pineford generally acted normally around celebrities. The stares and the outbreak of whispers when I walked in downstairs were not any facsimile of normal.”
She snorted, loving the way Juliet wrinkled her nose. “Um, no. I said they were normal about me, Blythe, and Emerson. Because to them, we aren’t ‘real’ celebrities; they’ve known us their whole lives. I’ve served them pizza and beer. You?”
Darcy shook her head, softness rolling through her as she gazed at Juliet.