Chapter 32
Liam
Ihad just finished buttoning up my blue shirt when my phone buzzed on the bathroom counter. I tried to ignore it, but a moment later Bridget’s ringtone, the dramatic theme to Phantom of the Opera, started blasting, echoing in the small space.
Mentally bracing myself, I grabbed it and hit the green button.
“Yeah?” I didn’t have time for pleasantries. I had left Emma downstairs after that disaster of a run-in with the paparazzi in town, even though I knew I shouldn’t have. But I’d needed a minute to collect myself, to calm down.
I was no stranger to the paparazzi, but the questions they were pelting us—me—with were too much, especially when I was frazzled by that kiss. I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t remember what to do. I hated that the person who meant the most to me in the entire world was being dragged into my world of chaos, rumors, and disgusting, stalkerish paparazzi.
“Where are you?” Bridget barked, and I had to pull the phone away from my ear at her harsh tone.
A flood of steam erupted as I opened the bathroom door, crossing the room to search for a pair of socks in the dresser. The faint scent of Emma’s perfume hung in the air, and it immediately soothed me.
“At home,” I said through clenched teeth, shoving one sock on my foot, then the other. As I stood, the ticket Emma had given me slipped out of my back pocket and onto the floor. Bridget said something, or should I say yelled something, but it was lost in the background as I stooped to pick up the ticket. I smiled in spite of myself.
As much as going to a weather convention wasn’t my thing—at all—I was surprisingly excited to go with her. It would keep me at Emma’s side which was where I found myself wanting to be more often lately.
“Hellooo, earth to Liam!”
The anger in Bridget’s voice snapped my attention back to her.
“What?” I snapped back, mimicking her tone.
“What in the world are you doing at home?”
I sighed, my patience at an all-time low. “What are you talking about?”
I imagined her pinching the bridge of her nose like she always did as she said, “Did you already forget our conversation this morning? You were supposed to fly out this afternoon, remember? You have a commitment at The Phoenix’s Wing tonight, not to mention several gigs here in California over the next few days. I sent you the details last week. Emma can stay in Iowa this time.”
Dread settled into my bones, sending my stomach through the floor. How had I forgotten that? The Phoenix’s Wing was my most-frequented venue, owned by some of the wealthiest producers in the music industry. Anyone that wanted to be anything played there—as often as possible. I used to love it, but after everything that had been happening with Emma, it was suddenly the last place on earth I wanted to be.
“I forgot,” I admitted. “I’ll head to the airport now.” Regret filled my bones. I hated the thought of leaving Emma again—especially after what had just happened at Dina’s. I’d gotten so used to her presence, the thought of suddenly being without it made a heavy weight sink into my stomach.
“Make sure you pack your nice clothes. Multiple days’ worth,” Bridget ordered as if she were my mother and not my manager.
“Days?”
“Are you even listening? I said you have multiple gigs lined up for the next few days, not just at The Phoenix’s Wing.”
“But I need to be back in Meridel by Saturday.”
“Sorry, Liam. No can do. This is in your contract. This is part of the deal.”
“I have another commitment,” I ground out, my jaw aching from clenching my teeth. “I need to be here for Emma. The rest will have to be rescheduled.” Or canceled.
“The heck you do,” Bridget snapped. “You don’t just bail on these gigs, Liam.”
“I promised Emma—”
“I don’t care what you promised your fake wife. I’m sending the jet for you. Be at the airport in two hours.”
“Bridget—”
“Two hours, Liam,” she repeated. “I don’t think you want to find out what happens if you aren’t at The Phoenix’s Wing tonight.”
The line clicked, ending the call before I could argue any further.
Crap.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to back out on going to the convention with Emma any more than I wanted to back out on these gigs. This was the type of thing that could make or break my career, and when it was already in a precarious position, it wasn’t a good idea to push the limit any further.
But…Emma.
I knew how much this weather exhibit meant to her, and how much it meant for me to come with her. She had been so hesitant to ask me in the first place. Emma was the one person who had always been there for me when no one else was. I hated the thought of letting her down.
I hated the mental image of her face falling when I told her I couldn’t go with her.
Putting my face in my hands, I sat on the bed. I hated this. I hated having someone else rule my life, being beholden to these rules that I never wanted to follow in the first place. Ever since I’d married Emma, I found myself thinking more and more about what it would be like to break ties with Bridget and do things my own way. Though, I’d be the first to admit how crazy that was, especially after all I’d done to get where I was. It would be foolish to throw it away.
Emma would understand, wouldn’t she? She knew how difficult my life could be and how important something like this was. I mean, the whole reason we had gotten married in the first place was to help my career. Surely, she’d understand that this was another way to help. Right?
Resigned to the fact that I was about to hurt her, I rose from the bed and went downstairs. Emma was chugging a bottle of water in the kitchen.
Her face lit up when she saw me, a smile spreading across her lips when she’d swallowed. I didn’t miss the way her eyes gave me a once over and I automatically stood a little taller.
“Hey,” she said, crossing the space between us and wrapping her arms around me.
My tongue dried up and I couldn’t find any words, so I settled for holding her in my arms. How could I leave her again? How had I ever left her in the first place?
I felt like my heart was at war with itself. My music career was everything I’d ever worked for and wanted. Everything I’d ever dreamed of.
But reality hadn’t been as kind as my dreams.
Sure, I’d gotten to make music and become successful. But I was also alone in one of the busiest cities in the country. I had nobody while I was there, searching for someone in all the wrong places.
But being back in Meridel…with Emma…it was the first time in two years I felt like I could breathe again. I felt like I’d finally found home.
How could I leave that again?
But at the same time, how could I give up my dream?
Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. Maybe I was making a mountain out of a mole hill. It was just a few days back in California and then I’d come back to Meridel. Right?
I’d disappoint Emma, yes, but she’d forgive me—she’d understand… Right?
Too many questions were slamming through my brain, and I couldn’t think straight.
She pulled back to look at me. “Are you okay?”
My lips were glued shut. I couldn’t get my brain to form words.
When I didn’t respond, Emma squeezed me tighter.
“It’s okay, Liam. I know the paparazzi were crazy but I’m fine and you’re fine, and we can’t let them ruin this. I told you I can handle this part of your life, so take a breath and let it go.” Her head settled against my chest again.
I blew out a long breath. Emma thought I was upset about what happened at Dina’s, but in truth, after Bridget’s phone call, I’d forgotten all about it, consumed by the fact that I’d have to disappoint my best friend—my wife.
Which was a shame because that was one of the best kisses I’d ever had.
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” she said after a moment, a slight tremble in her voice. That’s odd.
“Me too,” I admitted, wishing I didn’t have to have this conversation at all.
Emma leaned back to look at me and must have seen something on my face because she asked, “What’s wrong?”
I sighed, letting go of her, needing to get it out before I exploded. “Um. Bridget called.”
Emma’s face dropped into a scowl. “What does the she-devil want now?”
I couldn’t help my wince. “I forgot about a gig I have…tonight.”
“Oh. That’s not so bad. You scared me.” She lightly pinched my arm. “Am I supposed to come with you or—”
“It’s in California.”
Emma froze, blinking at me. I continued before I lost my nerve.
“It’s at a really important venue in LA, and…I have gigs every night through the weekend. She told me this morning and I completely forgot about it.”
I braced for impact, waiting for Emma to put the pieces together that I wouldn’t be going to that convention with her. I hated this. I hated that I had to hurt her. In the end, it wasn’t really that big of a deal. It wasn’t like I was telling her I wanted to divorce, but it felt like the end of the world because I knew how much it meant to her for me to come with her.
I grabbed her hand and held it in both of mine.
Something about the gesture must have clued her in because her face fell, and she pulled out of my reach.
“So you won’t be here on Saturday. For the convention.” It wasn’t a question.
A breath shuddered out of me. “Em…” Words suddenly felt like a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle without any corner pieces. I couldn’t put any coherent sentences together.
Come on, brain! Words aren’t that hard!
Emma turned around so I couldn’t see her face. “It’s fine, Liam. Don’t worry about it.”
“Emma, I—”
She walked back into the kitchen, throwing the fridge door open before tearing into a bag of cheese.
I followed her. “Wait, please.”
She stopped but kept her gaze on the ground, fingers full of cheese. I hated that she wouldn’t look at me.
“It’s…it’s really important that I’m there. I…I won’t be able to get back in time for the convention.”
Emma nodded, still avoiding looking at me.
“I’m sorry, Em. I was looking forward to going with you.”
Finally, she looked at me, and my heart cracked in my chest at the shimmer in her eyes. The light that had been shining in them just minutes ago was gone.
“I understand. You’re Liam Walker, after all. Right?” She patted my shoulder and began walking away. “I hope your gigs go well. I’ll see you when you get home.”
Before I could utter another word, she disappeared into the garage, taking the bag of cheese and my heart with her. As I stood there for several minutes, listening to the sound of her truck start and leave the garage, I warred with myself.
Music was everything I had ever wanted. These types of gigs were what I lived for, worked for.
But lately it all had started to feel so much less important. I still loved being a country singer, but the joy I had once felt paled in comparison to the joy I’d felt here with Emma.
What does that even mean?
I stared at the door for far too long, debating the consequences of saying screw it and going after Emma.
But, in the end, my inner coward was too much to fight against, and I hurried to change into my standard gig attire, left the townhouse, and headed to the airport.
A fierce ache settled in my gut as I drove, unable to get the look of Emma’s crestfallen face out of my mind.
As I parked at the airport and climbed into the private jet that Bridget had sent, I couldn’t help but think…
What have I done?