Chapter 45
TARA
“What do you think Mrs. Bellows is going to do?” I whisper to Cameron once we walk away from the housekeeper.
His jaw tightens. “I don’t know. Time will tell. Luckily the lawyer Radha found for me arrives tomorrow. We’ll launch our plan then.”
The weight of it presses on me.
“I won’t be here tomorrow. We shouldn’t have even risked being seen together tonight. And that picture The New York Times took of us—it could be on the front page tomorrow…”
Cameron’s gaze locks on mine. “We did nothing wrong. And it won’t wreck us.”
I want to believe him.
“My friend Chloe invited me to sleep at her house tonight. They’re waiting outside for me now. I must leave.”
I take a step back, but he closes the space between us.
His hands rest on my shoulders, steady, possessive. Then he tilts my face up with his forefinger, lingering a beat too long.
“Don’t forget,” he murmurs, his voice rough, “this isn’t the end. One day we’ll walk Edison in Central Park. The three of us.”
The words cut straight through me. Every cell in my body begs me to spend the night with him. But I can’t. Not with cameras hovering at the edges of the crowd, ready to turn a stolen kiss into a headline.
So I force a smile, choke back the sting in my eyes, and step away before I lose my nerve.
After I quickly change, I weave my way toward the exit. Outside, the night air slaps against my overheated skin.
I stop on the steps of the Dreamhouse Theater, gripping the handrail as if it’s the only thing tethering me.
For a long beat, I can’t move. Every part of me screams to turn back.
To risk it all for one more touch, one more kiss with Cameron. But I force myself to breathe, to remember the photographers, the trial, the uncertainty.
“Tara!” says Chloe, stepping toward me. “The Swain-Blacks are waiting in the car. Let’s go!”
A few minutes later, the driver holds the door open for us, and we slide into the spacious limo.
“Tara, you sang beautifully,” says Mrs. Swain-Black. Her twin girls, Joan and Jill, chatter nonstop, cheeks flushed with excitement.
“Did you really practice being swallowed by a whale?” Jill says.
I laugh despite myself.
“No, that part was just the story. Nobody actually gets swallowed.”
“See?” Chloe says, nudging her. “You’re mixing Posey’s whale story with the Moby Dick story we heard sung at the opera tonight.”
“Tonight’s opera was about revenge,” I explain gently. “A captain chasing a whale that hurt him, even if it meant risking the lives of his crew.”
Joan scrunches her nose. “That's boring. They should make it so the whale swallows the captain instead.”
The girls dissolve into giggles, and suddenly I’m laughing too.
It’s been one of the hardest nights of my life, but the sound of their innocent joy cuts through the weight I’ve been carrying.
For a flicker of a moment, the heaviness eases. I glance out the window, though, and the dark Nantucket streets blur past.
When we reach the estate, Chloe tugs my hand, pulling me upstairs toward her room.
“That was so nice that Cameron came for you,” she says, kicking off her heels and collapsing onto her bed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating him?”
“I’m not,” I say, kicking off my shoes.
“Not officially.” She smirks. “But I saw the way he looked at you. You two were throwing sparks so bright I’m surprised the chandelier didn’t catch fire.”
I sigh, sinking onto the edge of the bed. “It isn’t like that.”
“Uh-huh.” Chloe leans closer. “So let me ask the real question. Are you in love with him?”
The words hit harder than I expect.
For a moment, I can’t answer. My fingers find the locket at my throat, the metal still warm from the stage lights.
Finally, I whisper, “I’ve never felt like this with anyone. Not in my entire life.”
Chloe exhales, as if she’s been waiting to hear it.
“Good. Because that’s what it looked like. And honestly, I’d hate to think I imagined all that delicious tension.”
I laugh, but it’s shaky.
“The timing’s impossible. There’s Jason. The trial. Everything’s so uncertain.”
She pats my arm. “Honey, uncertainty is the price of falling in love with a rockstar. Or becoming one yourself.”
We’re both quiet for a beat. Then Chloe grins.
“Just so you know—if you don’t marry him, I will.”
I burst out laughing, the tension dissolving.
For the first time all night, I feel lighter.