Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Hailey
“Jason,” I call after him, but he disappears, his door clicking shut and punctuating our conversation with a sense of finality that I don’t like. At all.
What just happened?
He brought up my parents, and I … I told him that I still viewed our marriage as fake.
And he clearly doesn’t—or didn’t—feel the same way.
I sit down, my mind racing, trying to piece together how or why he got so mad, why I reacted the way I did.
The underlying premise of our marriage was the business deal—insurance and stability until I can support myself.
He said all along that he wanted to keep his promise to Hunter. That was his primary argument in favor of proposing to me. Wasn’t it?
“Wasn’t it?” I whisper to myself, thinking back over everything
But he’s the one who insisted on a dress, flowers, having his friends participate. The reception.
Every step of the way, he’s been taking this far more seriously than I have.
I just assumed … well, I thought it was to sell the story to everyone—his friends …
the press. If gossip sites got wind that our marriage was on paper only, they’d have a field day.
I didn’t blame him for not wanting to be gossiped about like that.
I didn’t want that for me, either, to be honest.
I said …
His voice echoes in my mind, reminding me of the other things he said. And it’s true, he did say that he was happy for me to stay as long as I’m happy. But … I just assumed that was his way of telling me he wasn’t in a hurry to get rid of me. Not that he wanted to stay married forever.
I never thought forever was a real option. Even if we’re having fun with each other now. People always get tired of me long before forever.
But the way he reacted …
He seems to think that was what we were doing.
But … seriously?
Jason and me? A couple? For real?
My brother’s best friend, my first preteen crush, the famous hockey player … my husband. And not just for convenience or insurance or any of the other excuses. But because he wants me?
Groaning softly, I drop my head into my hands and cover my face. How could I have fucked this up so badly?
And how am I going to fix it?
I decide to give him some space. From the way he went to his room and closed the door, he obviously wants it. I head to my own room and get out my violin. Music has always soothed me when things feel wrong.
And things have felt—been—wrong so much more often than not in my life, that it’s almost comforting to have everything blow up in my face. I knew it would eventually. Constantly waiting for the explosion is, in a lot of ways, worse than the explosion itself.
Now that I’ve fucked up—it was always inevitable, I can admit that—I don’t have to worry about when and how. I can figure out how to fix it. Assuming, of course, that I can fix it.
As I know all too well, there are many, many things in life that can’t be fixed, no matter how hard you try or how much you wish you could. My brother, for example. My parents.
But I really, really don’t want to add Jason to that list.
While Jason’s still polite, nothing between us is okay. He answers the door to my knock later, but gives me a wan smile when I ask if he’s okay.
“I’m fine, Hailey. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m going to turn in early, though. I have a flight tomorrow.”
“Right. O-of course,” I stammer, still standing there when he closes the door softly, but firmly, in my face.
I guess I won’t be sleeping with him tonight.
That feels … bad.
Painful.
I rub my hand over the spot in my chest where it hurts the worst.
I only have myself to blame.
I’ve said all the wrong things, and as usual, I don’t know what the right things to say even are. If I did, I would happily say all of them. Right now. I don’t want him to leave while things are like this between us.
But he does.
He’s already gone before I get up in the morning, even though I didn’t think his flight out was that early. Maybe it was, and I was just too wrapped up in myself to know.
But no … I scroll back through our texts. He sent me the details of his flights for this trip, and he definitely didn’t need to be out of the house this early.
He’s avoiding me.
Tears sting my eyes, and I drop my phone on the couch next to me, leaning my head back against the cushions and staring at the ceiling. I don’t know what to do. And with him gone? The likelihood I’ll be able to make this right seems even more unlikely.
My prediction proves correct as the days progress. I text him once a day, but I get minimal responses.
It gets to the point that I actually watch his games on TV—the first time I’ve ever sat down on purpose to watch any kind of sporting event other than the Olympics—just so I can hopefully get a glimpse of him.
Marissa’s right that live games are so much better than watching on TV.
The last game of their away stint, I go over to her place to watch it, grateful for the company.
“Hey!” she greets me when I arrive at her door. “I’m so glad you came over. I sometimes get together with Maggie while the boys are gone to watch games, but her son has something tonight, so she’s unavailable.”
“Parents,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s like their whole lives revolve around their kids or something.” Good parents, anyway.
She laughs. “Right? Soooo ridiculous.” Closing the door behind me, she rattles off a list of drink options, and as she’s pouring me a glass of wine, she grins.
“Actually, some kids are pretty great. My brother has a little boy. He’s the most adorable little guy ever.
They live over in Spokane, which is about a five-hour drive from here.
I don’t get over there a ton, but I try to make it at least once or twice a year, and I’ll admit it’s more to see my nephew than it is to see my brother or his wife.
Although, they just announced that Abby, my sister-in-law, is pregnant again, so I’ll need to go over and help with a baby shower in a few months.
I told Gabby, my sister, that she needs to adjust her schedule so she can be around sometime near the end of her pregnancy for it too. ”
Sipping her wine, she makes a sound like she just thought of something.
“Oh, I should actually introduce you to her. I think I mentioned previously that she also plays violin? I probably didn’t give you more details, though, because it’s one of those things I tend not to volunteer until I know someone’s not going to be a psycho about it. ”
My brows pull together. “About what? Who would be psycho about your sister playing violin?”
She waves a hand airily, then leads me to the couch, where she has a spread of snacks set out on the coffee table.
“Well, it’s not that she plays violin. It’s who she plays with.
” She sets her glass down on the coffee table and looks at me, tilting her head to the side.
“Are you familiar with Jonathan Brasher?”
My eyebrows raise. “The pop star?” At her nod, I nod too. “I’m not like a super fan or anything, but I’m aware of his existence. He has some good songs.”
She leans her arm on the back of the couch. “Have you ever noticed that there are a lot of strings playing with his music? Violin, specifically?”
My brows pull together again. “Uh … maaaaybe?”
Chuckling, she straightens. “Well, that’s all my sister. They’re married.”
Now my eyes go wide. “What?”
Marissa nods. “Yeah. She was on the classical track like you, but then she met Jonathan and …” She shrugs, leaving the blanks unfilled. I suppose that meeting him gave her an in to playing on a different sort of stage?
“Wow,” I murmur.
“Yup. Anyway, like I said. Next time she’s around, I’ll be sure to introduce you.”
“Cool. Thanks.” I’m not entirely sure that’ll help me, but I certainly appreciate the thought. In the meantime, I have an audition coming up here, and while I finally found an audition coach a couple weeks ago, now I feel bad about spending Jason’s money when he’s so upset with me.
I’ve still been buying groceries and things, but I’ve also been working harder while he’s been away at promoting myself so I can book some gigs.
I recorded new pop covers, and I went back to that list I made of bars and restaurants that frequently have live music that’s like what I offer.
“Oh, hey. You mentioned wanting to come out with me to scope out places I might want to gig. There’s one I wanted to check out tomorrow. You up for it?”
“Of course! Let me know when and where. Do you want to meet there or go together?”
“Going together sounds fun. There’s a saxophone playing starting at six.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Saxophone, huh?”
Shrugging, I give her a lopsided smile. “I figure if they’ll hire a sax, they’d potentially be open to solo violin.”
“Makes sense. Six works for me. Want me to pick you up? Or do you want to drive this time?”
“I’ll let you pick me up, if you don’t mind. I’m still not entirely used to driving around here.”
She gives me a meaningful look. “And you never will be until you actually drive yourself around.”
“True. And I’m sure there’ll be plenty of times no one’s offering to drive me. And then I’ll figure it out.”
Laughing, she nods, then reaches for the remote. “Oh! It’s about to start.”
After the game, I text Jason.
Nice playing tonight
He takes ages to respond, and when he does, it’s a perfunctory
Jason
Thanks
I stare at my phone for a while, hoping for more, wondering if I should say something, maybe ask a question? Anything to try to spark a conversation. But with a sigh, I set my phone aside and turn to my violin instead.
If this is going south, I need to get myself set up to survive without him. Would Marissa be open to having a roommate if it came down to that? That’s a big ask of a new relationship, but …
Grimacing, I push those thoughts aside and focus on the notes and rhythms in front of me.
I can’t control Jason or Marissa or what happens with anyone else.
But I can control if I can play this to the best of my ability.
I need to land some gigs, nail my audition, and start reaching out to area music teachers to drum up some students. And the sooner, the better.