Chapter Twenty-Five. Riley
Chapter Twenty-Five
Riley
Within twelve hours we’re on our way back to London and my head is spinning.
Luna has barely spoken since finding out about Hudson’s cheating allegations, and I’ve never seen her shut down like this.
Every time I reach for her hand and it’s limp in my grasp, I feel a jolt of anxiety.
I know this isn’t my fault, but I hate feeling like being with me has caused problems for her. I should have made us be more careful.
My Eat, Dance, Love Euro Summer group chat has been blowing up and I’ve missed multiple calls from Rhia. Eventually I text her, not bothering to read through all the messages I’ve missed.
You were right about going for it
Greece was amazing … but everything is a mess now
Rhia texts back immediately. it’ll blow over, I’ll be back in London tomorrow and will be WAITING outside your hotel room as soon as I land with lots of sugar, moral support, and an investigative journalist’s need for details
scratch that, a detective
journalist was the wrong thing to say lol sorry!
I like her messages. Thanks I text back.
The dread in my gut deepens throughout our journey.
A black SUV meets us on the private jet tarmac to take us to the hotel so Luna can rest before heading to the recording studio in a few hours.
In the car, I reach out and take her free hand, but she’s so wrapped up in her phone that she barely notices.
“Luna,” I say softly, trying to get her attention.
I don’t know when I’ll see her next after this, and I don’t want to get out of this car having not said anything. “Luna,” I repeat, and squeeze her hand.
She looks up, her eyes bloodshot from crying and staring at the offending articles and posts on her phone. “Yeah?”
I interlace my fingers with hers. “I just … I’m sorry that this is how our trip ended.
It was a beautiful trip. And I know this probably isn’t reassuring at all—I don’t really know anything about your industry, and I know society loves to hate on women at every chance they get—but I think your fans believe in you.
I was a big fan of you and your music before we ever met.
” I’m blushing just saying it. But I press on.
“And I think that your fans have grown up with you and they may be more loyal than you think. I know Hudson’s created a lot of noise.
But I think that when you finally speak on this, they’ll support you. ”
Luna opens her mouth to say something, then closes it again. “I hope so,” she says finally. “I just … My career is everything to me. It’s my whole life. I’d do anything to keep it from crumbling and it’s scary to realize that.”
“I know,” I say quietly. Luna leans toward me, and I unbuckle my seat belt and move to the middle seat, putting my arm around her.
I make sure I appear calm for her, but on the inside my gut is sinking because I can’t help but read into her words.
She means that she may end whatever this is between us.
And I hate that I understand. I want her to do whatever she needs to do to be okay, even if that means losing what we have.
When we get to the hotel and are in the elevators heading to our respective rooms, about to be apart for the first time in days, Luna surprises me by suddenly leaning down and kissing me.
She pulls away before I can kiss her back properly, and then the elevator doors open and I don’t make another move.
“I had fun in Greece,” Luna says softly.
“I … Me too,” I say, surprised. Does the past tense mean we’re done? I don’t know what to think. I just want to make this easier on her. But Luna leaves for her own room, and I don’t ask what she meant.
And I am so mind-numbingly tired from flying all night and the emotional roller coaster we just went on.
Tomorrow my kitchen will arrive, or maybe it’s already here, and I’ll set up at Wembley Stadium, where we’re doing six shows to finish off this leg of the tour.
We have a three-day break between shows four and five, and then Luna takes about a month and a half off before traveling to Asia and Australia for the final leg of the world tour.
I’m only contracted for the European leg, but Rhia told me that the rumors among the crew were that contract extensions would be sent out any day now.
I’m sure Ashley would love to have me on the next plane out of here, to simplify things for Luna.
I shower, then turn my ringer on high and fall into a fitful sleep. But when I wake up to the sound of my phone ringing, it’s my dads video calling, not Luna. I pick up anyway, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
“Hello?” I say blearily.
“Do you want us to book you a flight home?” Anthony asks immediately.
“We saw the tabloids.” I can hear the concern in his voice, and I’m not surprised.
My dads have always been protective of me, and that increased tenfold after Liv.
I grew up in such a beautiful bubble in Provincetown that when I went away to college and realized how hateful and small-minded some people could be, I was shocked.
“Dad, no,” I say quickly. “I’m working. I need to finish out this leg of the tour really well or else I won’t have any chance of getting booked for Asia and Australia.” I see the surprise on their faces and wince. Shoot. I hadn’t told them about Asia yet.
“What?” Anthony asks. “You’re not coming home?”
“I am coming home. But then in October, Luna has another leg of the tour through Asia and Australia and New Zealand, since it’s their summer during our winter. I’m making amazing money on this tour. I want to keep going with it.”
“And then you’ll apply for jobs in the winter?” Nick asks, frowning. “Riley, this was just supposed to be for the summer. You don’t want too big a gap on your résumé.”
“I—” I stop myself. I want to say that I want to cook.
I don’t want to apply to some consulting job, I want to tour, and then I’ll figure out what’s next and all I know is that it’ll definitely be in a kitchen.
But I can’t seem to get the words out. A tear rolls down my cheek and I quickly brush it away.
“Sorry,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’m just tired. ”
“Aw, honey, it’s okay,” Anthony says reassuringly. “This stuff with Luna and the media, just … it’s not your circus. If it’s too much, you can just leave. I know you like her, but you don’t need to do the next leg of the tour. You don’t even need to finish this one.”
I know it’s meant to sound reassuring. But instead his words have more tears leaking out of me, because I don’t know how to tell them that I’m going to disappoint them completely.
The restaurant I was describing to Luna was a dream, not a business plan.
It only felt possible because we were in the magical glow of first falling for each other, and now reality has set in and I don’t know if I’m bold enough to jump headfirst into my dreams like that.
“I’m afraid I’m going to lose her,” I choke out.
“It just happened, and it’s already a mess.
And I hadn’t felt this happy since Liv, and—” I devolve into sobs.
Part of it is because I don’t want things between us to fall apart.
But a lot of it is also that I don’t know how to tell my dads what I actually want.
“It’s okay, honey,” Anthony murmurs. “Just let it out. It’ll be okay. No matter what happens, it’ll be okay.”
“Imagine if I could tell Liv about this?” I say after I’ve calmed down a little.
“She’d love this,” Nick says quietly. “Not that you’re upset. But the tour, the drama. She’d have you laughing over how crazy it is that you’re in a magazine kissing Luna Leya when you two used to dance to her on the boat while I hauled traps.”
“It is pretty crazy,” I admit. “And it’s a mess now, but we had a great time in Greece before all this. And getting to know her this summer has been the best part of going on the tour.”
“Then don’t give up on her,” Anthony says definitively. “I know you, sweetie, and you love hard, but you also love carefully. So see what happens. This is new to her, right? Sometimes when you’re the one who’s already out, you have to be the brave one and let your partner take their time.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I say softly.
I let my dads regale me with stories of the shack for a while until I feel calmer, and by the time we hang up I feel homesick.
But slightly more hopeful as well. I pull out my phone and open my texts with Luna, hesitating.
If you want company at the studio later, I’m here, I type.
My finger hovers over the send button, but then in a rush I hit it before I can delete the message.