Chapter Fourteen
Binx fixed a venomous gaze on Ava as she pulled mascara through her lashes.
Music blared through her Bluetooth speaker, and he didn’t appreciate the noise nor the fact that she was about to leave him.
Whenever she put makeup on, he’d park himself on her bathroom sink and try to guilt her into staying home with his big yellow eyes.
Wicked Smile’s newer albums had been playing all afternoon as she milled about the apartment.
She hadn’t listened to any of the records since she and Jay separated.
The thought of hearing his voice or his poetry had felt like poking an open wound.
But as she prepared for dinner, it felt like the right time.
There were three albums to catch up on. As she listened to the newest one, she noticed a trend: the songs grew darker and richer with each release. She didn’t need the liner notes to understand what that meant.
She wasn’t prepared for “Butterfly Bandage” though. One minute she was brushing her hair, and the next she was on the couch with no memory of sitting down, his voice pulling her back to that last night together. She recognized every detail in the song.
And now she knew what came after. He’d walked out of that fight, driven into a ditch, and he still hadn’t let it go.
She’d texted him earlier, unable to shake the feel of him or his sheets.
Ava: Are you free tonight?
He’d texted her back in less than five minutes.
Jay: be ready by 7. wear something nice. this will be better than hospital steak.
A brisk knock at the door interrupted her as she debated what shoes to wear. She regretted not insisting they meet at the restaurant, but Jay had been adamant about picking her up. After seeing his place, her ground-floor apartment on the outskirts of the city felt inadequate.
Pausing the music from her phone, Ava opened the door.
Her skin prickled at the sight of Jay standing there.
His hair was slicked into a neat quiff, and his outfit was simple: black jeans, Chelsea boots, and a white collared shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows, top buttons undone to reveal his mandala neck tattoo.
“You look…” she breathed, suddenly unable to remember any words. “Christ.”
He grinned. “You’re a bombshell.”
Heat rose into her cheeks as his eyes roved over her, taking in the clingy silk dress and deep red lipstick. She could already feel his hands on her.
“Thanks,” she managed and moved aside. “Come in for a sec. I have to turn off the lights and grab my shoes.”
In the bathroom, Binx still perched on the sink, tail flicking in disapproval.
“I’ll be back soon,” Ava assured him, scratching his chin.
He only blinked, unimpressed.
When she returned to the front room, Jay stood at her gallery wall, studying her curated collection of family photos and childhood polaroids.
She had deliberately excluded photos of Jay and his siblings, shielding herself against those memories even though there was no erasing them.
Ari, Jay, and Mira were at practically every birthday and holiday in her young life.
A box under her bed held all those photos, tucked away but never truly forgotten.
He pointed to a shadowbox that showcased her prized possessions from medical school.
Inside, her first lab coat sat folded below the research award she’d earned with Henry.
Her cords from graduation draped across the top, and in the center was a photo of her in regalia, beaming between her parents under an oak tree on campus.
“Green has always been your color,” he said with reverence. “It makes your eyes look beautiful.”
Ava stepped closer, remembering how she made sure to steam the regalia so it didn’t have a single wrinkle on it when she walked across the stage.
Jay reached out and found her hand, bringing it to his lips. “I’m sorry I missed this.”
Ava squeezed his hand. There was nothing she could say to make up for the years they’d lost.
She cleared her throat, eager to shift the mood. “What’s on the menu tonight? You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
“You’ll like it,” Jay said, his lips curving into a smile. “Unless you suddenly hate stir-fries.”
“You know me better than that.”
Ava slipped into black platforms and draped a shawl over her shoulders. Jay held the door, his cologne enveloping her as she stepped out. She had to mentally refocus to make sure she locked the door.
When they reached the parking lot, Ava expected to see a flashy sports car that screamed rockstar, but instead, a sleek, black Lincoln idled at the curb.
Jay caught her surprise. “All my attention’s on you tonight.” His eyes flicked toward the front seat. “Plus, David, here, doubles as my body guard. He’s the whole package.”
David was middle-aged with salt and pepper hair, light brown skin, and cheekbones that could cut glass. His dark eyes met Ava’s, and he smiled as Jay helped her into the backseat.
“Nice to meet ya, darling,” he said with a nod. “Jay can call me whatever he wants, but I’m mostly his babysitter.”
Jay scoffed, sliding in beside Ava. “I think Lionel would actually be my babysitter, if you’re going to put it that way.”
David laughed. “I’m the babysitter. Lionel is your rich daddy who is never home. I’m the one who has to make sure you get your naps and meals on time.”
“I love it when you emasculate me,” Jay grumbled, feigning irritation.
David just laughed and tapped at the GPS. “Same place?”
“Same place.”
“Alright. Then buckle up.”
The ride was smooth, the radio host murmuring about the local hockey team as they got on the interstate.
Ava watched the city lights blur past, thinking about the boy who used to drive a beat-up silver Subaru held together by lime green duct tape.
Even after Wicked Smile’s first two best-selling albums, he’d kept that car, only upgrading when it became a safety hazard.
She’d gone down an internet rabbit hole after they reconnected.
His net worth was estimated at over $20 million.
There were paparazzi photos of him stumbling out of clubs, tabloid articles with headlines like “Wicked Smile Frontman’s Slurred Set Sparks Concern” and “Jay Wyler’s Latest Bender Has Fans Asking: Too Far?
” The version of him sitting beside her was hard to reconcile with those images and even harder with the boy who once spent an entire summer mowing lawns to buy a secondhand electric guitar.
“What’d you think of the new album?”
Ava blinked, her gaze snapping away from the window. “Hmm?”
Jay smiled timidly. “I heard you listening. What did you think?”
She thought for a moment. “It’s heavy.”
“Heavy?” He chuckled, a sliver of vulnerability in his eyes. “Fair. It’s our darkest sound yet.”
“It’s also sad.” She paused. “But on another album…‘Butterfly Bandage’—is that about us?”
His expression was guarded. “Yeah.”
“The bridge.” She hesitated. “About the pine tree.”
Jay looked out the window. “The one between our houses, yeah.”
“Why was it easier to sing it than say it straight to me?” The question escaped before she could stop it.
“A…”
“I’m not asking to hurt you. I—” She took a breath. “I listened to three albums today, and I heard you hurting in every song. You could tell millions of people, but you couldn’t call me.”
She thought of his early songs, the ones he’d written in high school when he was still completely unknown. He’d played them for her on his beat-up guitar, sitting on her bed. No filters. No performance. Just Jay, telling her everything through music because words were too hard.
“You think leaving was easy?” Jay asked, finally meeting her eyes. “I almost hit you, Ava. I knew if I didn’t leave, eventually, the wall wouldn’t be there to catch the blow.”
Ava’s breath caught, and she had to look away.
“I already said I was trying to stay away,” he continued, his voice breaking. “I was alone through all of it because I deserved to be.”
“You didn’t,” she whispered. “When I read the letters, all I could think was how much I wanted to reach you.”
He took her hand, and she turned back to face him.
“Let’s skip the heavy stuff tonight.” His eyes were pleading. “Nothing sad, if we can help it. I want us to have a good night.”
“But I feel like I should have—”
“A, please.” His voice was strained. “I know we need to talk about all of this. I know. But can we have tonight? Just one night where we’re not drowning in everything that’s gone wrong?”
She studied his face, saw the exhaustion there and the desperation for normalcy. Maybe he was right. Maybe they both needed one night to just be Jay and Ava again, without the weight of everything else.
“Okay,” she said softly.
He lifted her hand to his lips, relief washing over his features. “Thank you.”
Ava’s gaze drifted to the front seat. David’s eyes stayed fixed on the road, hands steady on the wheel, but she didn’t miss the tension in his shoulders.
Fifteen minutes later, the car pulled up to a bustling restaurant on 12th Avenue South.
Jay held the door for her, revealing a moody atmosphere with a dark orange motif throughout.
Murals of deep black ink resembled fish swimming across the walls.
The place was packed with at least four groups waiting to be seated, and the food being delivered to tables looked and smelled amazing.
She saw noodles, egg rolls, kabobs; he definitely still knew what she liked.
They were seated immediately, thanks to Jay’s reservation. The high-backed booth they were led to felt intimate, cocooning them from the noise.
Jay promised it would be better than the hospital food, and he came through.
The food was delicious—a menu of Indo-Chinese offerings.
Ava went for the garlic pepper chicken stir-fry, and Jay asked for the chili paneer.
Their dishes were pushed to the middle of the table, and they grazed until only the remains of the carrot halwa they split for dessert were between them.