Chapter 37
Tate
It’s late by the time we end the set and spend time backstage with local media, friends, and family.
It was a lot of fun playing for this crowd outside the palace, but stupid me, I just kept looking to the wings, hoping beyond hope she’d come back.
That she’d be standing there waiting for me when I was done.
That didn’t happen.
It’s nearly three in the morning before I get back to our suite. My suite. The suite that suddenly feels ridiculously empty. A lot like my life.
I’ve been replaying that last conversation with Summer over and over in my head, trying to figure out where I went wrong.
I should have told her I loved her, given her a reason to stay, but she was so focused on everything going on with her mom, I don’t think she would have listened. Or believed me.
It hurt when she called our relationship nothing but a mistake. Like this is some random fling. I’m not sure how much more I could have done to prove myself to her, but I don’t think there’s anything I could have done that would convince her of my sincerity.
I heard from her just before we went on stage, a brief text telling me her mother had been found and that she was safe. That was it. Nothing personal, no apology, just the basics.
Honestly, I don’t know where to go from here.
I’m physically exhausted, but my brain is on overload so there’s no way I’m going to sleep now.
Luckily, there’s a bottle of bourbon in my luggage—a gift from Erik—and I pour two fingers before taking the glass and walking over to the window.
There isn’t much to see at this time of night, so I spend a lot of time staring out at nothing, sipping my drink and wondering what I’m supposed to do.
I’ve never had a broken heart, beyond some high school nonsense, so this is new to me.
But that’s the only explanation I can come up with for this pit in my stomach and the all-encompassing emptiness.
For a little while on stage I felt like myself again, but the moment I was done, it all came rushing back.
The thing is, I’m not walking away from my kid, no matter what Summer thinks or wants.
I can’t force her to love me or to give us a chance, but I’m sure as shit going to make a stink if she tries to keep my kid from me.
I don’t want this to get ugly, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure my son or daughter knows that I’m there for them.
Unlike her father.
And in a lot of ways, like my parents.
They were there physically, but emotionally? I didn’t get much. So, I won’t do that to my kid. If only my feelings for his or her mother were easier to navigate because I’m so damn confused.
I’m startled awake by knocking on the door and realize I fell asleep in the chair by the window.
Fuck, my neck is stiff and my back is going to be sore today, but I walk over to open the door.
“You look rough,” Angus says, eyeing me. “You get any sleep?”
I rub the back of my neck with my hand. “Not a lot. What’s up?”
“I heard back from the memory care place in Minneapolis. They’re willing to review Tricia’s records, see if she’s a good fit for them. I don’t know if this is still relevant.”
“I don’t know either,” I admit.
“You didn’t say much yesterday, other than that Summer had an emergency with her mom. But I know you pretty well, and something happened.”
“She left,” I say blandly. “I mean, she left me.”
“What did you do?”
“Fuck if I know.” I back into my room and sink onto the couch.
“What happened?”
I give him an overview without any details. Mostly because I don’t know any.
“I have no idea what set her off. I mean, yeah, her mom’s situation, but it could have happened even if she was in town.”
“So, then this was an excuse.”
“Apparently.”
“Her trauma or yours?”
“Mine?” I glance up in annoyance. “What are you talking about?”
“Your shitty childhood. Emotionally barren parents. The fear that you’re going to be a shitty dad. Come on, this is me. I know all your bullshit.”
“I’ll never be like my parents,” I say with a grunt. “Fuck that. If Summer tries to keep me from the kid, I’ll fight her.”
He smiles.
“What?” I ask, annoyed.
“In the midst of all the chaos, did you fall in love with her?”
“What do you think?”
“Look, I’m not a lot older than you, but enough to have been around the block a few more times. And from where I’m sitting, that girl loves you too. Ryleigh said so too. There were practically stars in her eyes every time she looked at you. You can’t fake that, buddy.”
“Could have fooled me,” I mutter.
“Look, she was in panic mode. I’m sure she felt guilty. She’s out here traveling the world, having a blast, and her mom is who-knows-where, potentially dead in a ditch. Not to mention—”
“Don’t you dare bring up pregnancy hormones,” I say. “That’s just an excuse at this point. The things she said…the way she called me a mistake, that wasn’t just a Freudian slip. She doesn’t see me as her husband, just the guy who knocked her up and did the right thing.”
“Or maybe she’s protecting herself the same way you are.”
“Even if you’re right, what am I fighting for? She doesn’t want to move to Minnesota, and I don’t really want to live in upstate New York. Away from the band and—”
“But is it a dealbreaker?”
“What?”
“Is living in New York a dealbreaker? If you guys work out everything else, and it’s all really good, would you end things because she doesn’t want to move?”
I hesitate.
The easy answer is no.
I love her.
I’m in love with her.
Of course, I wouldn’t let her go over that.
But I think it’s a lot more complicated than that.
“I don’t think that will ever be the only issue,” I say sadly. “I think the bigger issue is…trust. She doesn’t trust me.”
“Not yet.”
“Trust takes time, and she wasn’t willing to give me the time to prove it to her.”
“Then go get her. Prove yourself to her.”
“What do you mean?”
He chuckles. “Dude, don’t be dense. Get off your ass and get on a plane. Isn’t the big ultrasound appointment coming up?”
“Yeah, on Wednesday.”
“You need to be there. And then you need to tell her how you feel. All of it. Even if it means apologizing for things you didn’t do.”
“How can I apologize for something I didn’t do?”
He gives me a look like I’m an idiot. “Come on. Knock it off.”
“I can’t just leave the tour.”
“Sure you can. Family emergency. Stu and Ford will fill in.”
Stu Killorn and Ford Malone are Nobody’s Fool’s guitarists and they’re good guys. I know they’ll fill in for me if I tell them what’s going on. I just hate having to put my band, and our friends, in this position.
But Summer’s important too.
If there’s even the most remote chance we can make this work, I have to try.
“Except I don’t know what to say or where to start.”
“How about you start with ‘I love you’?” Angus suggests.
“I don’t know if that’s enough.”
“Then you show her the email I’m going to forward to you from the memory care place—that takes her insurance and all that.”
“And then?”
He rolls his eyes. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”
“Probably.”
“Say all the things, man. Spell it out. How much you love her. How you felt when she left. How much she hurt you—they like it when we’re vulnerable.”
I snort.
“And then make love to her. Most women, at least in my experience, are their most vulnerable then. You don’t start there, not with everything going on, but you definitely end up there.”
“You’re making this sound so fucking easy.”
“There’s nothing easy about the road you’re on, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel if you look hard enough.”
“I don’t know if I want to kiss you or punch you in the face.”
He leans away from me. “I’d prefer that you didn’t do either.”
“I don’t know what to do first.”
“First you need a shower. Then coffee. Then we talk to Stu and Ford. Then you ask Sasha to get you on a flight to New York.”