17. Savannah #2
“But you’re still choosing not to.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Privacy.
Respect.
Boundaries.
All useful words.
All words that sounded cleaner than the situation was.
“Because she’s a person,” I said. “Not an answer I get to provide because the question is uncomfortable.”
Nina stayed still.
I could have stopped.
I should probably have stopped.
“And I’ve already decided enough things for her,” I added.
There it was.
More than Ellie had agreed to.
Less than everyone wanted.
Nina’s voice softened.
“Did you hurt her?”
My stomach tightened.
The question was too direct.
It was also about me.
“Yes.”
A murmur moved through the audience.
“Are you trying to repair the relationship?”
“I’m trying not to make the situation worse.”
A few people laughed.
The pressure released slightly.
“That sounds difficult,” Nina said.
“I have a strong support team.”
Backstage, Rachel folded her arms.
Sophie stood beside her, completely motionless.
Nina glanced at my wrist.
“Does the bracelet mean anything?”
I covered it with my other hand.
“Yes.”
“Can you tell us what?”
“No.”
This time the audience laughed more easily.
Nina smiled.
“Fair enough.”
She moved on.
Not because she had run out of questions.
Because she knew she had reached the line.
We returned to the album.
The new acoustic version of Hard Winter.
The song I had recently written but had not decided whether anyone would hear.
The final tour stop.
By the time the applause rose, my hands had stopped shaking.
Nina hugged me.
“That was good,” she whispered.
“I’m not certain Sophie agrees.”
Nina looked backstage.
“Sophie is holding a folder like it betrayed her.”
The navy cover had bent beneath her fingers.
“Accurate.”
The curtain closed behind me.
Sophie reached me first.
“You exceeded five words.”
“By several.”
“You said you hurt her.”
“I did.”
“You implied there was a relationship.”
“I said she wasn’t a convenient friend.”
“That strongly suggests emotional involvement.”
“There was emotional involvement.”
Sophie looked at Rachel.
Rachel tucked Mayor Shelldon beneath one arm.
“I’m not mediating while carrying a political figure.”
“This is serious,” Sophie said.
“So is public service.”
Sophie turned back to me.
“You could have protected her with less information.”
“Yes.”
The answer stopped her.
I exhaled.
“I should have stopped after saying she hadn’t agreed to be discussed.”
Sophie’s expression eased by one degree.
“You should have.”
“Nina asked if I hurt her.”
“You were allowed not to answer.”
“I know.”
I caught myself.
“You’re right.”
Rachel looked between us.
“What happens now?”
Sophie pulled out her phone.
“What always happens. One sentence becomes twelve headlines, six expert panels, and a stranger with a podcast explains Savannah’s attachment style.”
Rachel’s phone buzzed.
“It has begun.”
She held up the screen.
SAVANNAH brOOKS ADMITS SHE HURT MYSTERY WOMAN
Another alert appeared.
SAVANNAH REFUSES TO CALL FLORIDA DIVE INSTRUCTOR “JUST A FRIEND”
Then:
THE brACELET SAVANNAH brOOKS WON’T EXPLAIN
Sophie shut her eyes.
“At least the album cover is visible,” Rachel said.
“That is not promotion.”
“It is adjacent to promotion.”
Richard called.
Sophie looked at his name and held the phone toward me.
“You answer.”
“No.”
“You created this.”
“Nina contributed.”
The phone stopped.
Then Rachel’s rang.
She declined it.
“He controls your contract,” Sophie said.
“He doesn’t control what I call Ellie.”
The words came sharper than intended.
Sophie went still.
“No,” she said. “He doesn’t.”
Her voice was tired now.
Not hostile.
I looked at the bent folder in her hand.
“I know you aren’t trying to erase her.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re trying to stop one photograph from consuming the next six months.”
“Yes.”
“But we can’t do that by turning her into someone she wasn’t.”
“No,” Sophie said. “We can’t.”
She straightened the folder against her thigh.
“I’ll say the interview speaks for itself.”
“No clarification?”
“None.”
“No description of—”
“Savannah.”
I stopped.
“I heard you.”
She walked into the hallway and answered Richard’s third call.
Rachel watched her go.
“You frightened her.”
“She frightens me daily.”
“She likes you.”
“Is that how everyone expresses affection now?”
“It appears to be.”
I looked at her.
Rachel paused.
“Unfortunate phrasing.”
“Very.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Ellie.
My pulse jumped.
Her first message contained seven words.
You kept my name out of it.
I read it twice.
Then:
You still talked about me.
The warmth disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.
I typed:
Yes. I’m sorry. I should have stopped sooner.
Three dots appeared.
Stopped.
Returned.
Ellie: You said you hurt me.
Me: That answer was about what I did.
Ellie: It still told millions of people there was something to hurt.
She was right.
Rachel glanced at me.
“Bad?”
“Complicated.”
“That was expected.”
I looked back at the screen.
Me: You’re right.
I deleted it before sending.
Me: It did. I didn’t think far enough ahead.
The response took longer.
In the hallway, Sophie spoke to Richard with the rigid calm of someone mentally throwing objects.
Studio employees passed us carrying cables and coffee.
Finally, Ellie replied.
Ellie: You didn’t call me your friend.
I let out a breath.
Me: No.
Ellie: Thank you for that.
The message was not forgiveness.
It was recognition of one thing I had done correctly beside one I had not.
Me: I’m sorry about the rest.
Three dots appeared again.
Ellie: My father says you handle direct questioning adequately.
A laugh escaped me.
Rachel smiled.
“Better?”
“Tom updated the file.”
“Promotion?”
“Still under review.”
Another message arrived.
Ellie: I’m still angry.
I looked at the words for a long time.
Me: Understood.
Too formal.
I erased it.
Me: I’m not asking you not to be.
The answer came a minute later.
Ellie: Good.
Then:
Ellie: Text before calling.
I looked at Rachel.
“She reminded me of the policy.”
“Good policy.”
“Yes.”
Richard’s voice became audible through Sophie’s phone, despite the distance.
He did not sound pleased.
I slid my phone back into my pocket.
The interview had not fixed anything.
It had created three new headlines, one furious label executive, and another reason for Ellie to question my judgment.
But when I had been offered the easy lie, I had not used it.
That did not make the rest of my answer right.
It only meant I had found one line and managed not to cross it.
For today, that would have to be enough.