The Treble With Men

by Smartypants Romance

  “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You know that. I just want to help you relax.”

  My mouth watered as I opened the bottle. I would just take a glance at them. “All natural?”

  He scratched his chin. “Of course.”

  I hid my response as I dumped out a pill into my hand. It was small and blue with a fancy “V” stamped on one side and “2531” on the other. Herbal supplement, my ass. I spent months in rehab. I knew prescription drugs. Just not this one.

  I closed my hand around a pill and made to throw it in my mouth. Instead, I pocketed it. It was the most deceitful thing I’d done around Roddy. I had always been my genuine self and made the naïve assumption that he did as well. I thought with our shared history, there was no reason to be anyone but his real self. He was a shiny veneer but what about the content inside? What did I really know? We talked every day, a lot actually, but it was always about the schedule or memories or things that felt as substantive as marshmallow cereal.

  I took a deep breath and relaxed. Inside I fumed. I didn’t want to assume the worst. I had gone off on Devlin, and I’d seen how well that worked out. I needed to handle this rationally.

  “I’ll meet you out in the car. I’ve got your cello loaded already.” He hugged me again and made for the door. “You’ll feel better in no time. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “Sounds good,” I smiled at him.

  As soon as he was out of the room, I took a couple detailed pictures of the pill and sent it to the group chat for the SWS.

  “First person to tell me what this pill is gets my undying love for eternity.”

  “No pressure,” I added with a winky face. Damn, I missed my girls. And my home. My mind didn’t pop up the image of my bed though. It took me to Devlin’s bed. To the room I’d slept in. To the couch in the studio. To his bed. That was where my confused brain associated with home.

  I closed my eyes tight. My phone was already blowing up with texts. They missed me too and promised to find out. One more show. One day at a time. I could do this.

  I gripped the pill in my hand. I studied it for a long moment. It would be so easy to go back to being checked out. All I would have to do is swallow and live this life.

  But no. I’d felt alive again. I had found joy in my playing without the help of drugs. I didn’t need a man to have that power over me. I didn’t need anybody to have that power over me. I was done letting others live my life. I would do this last show tonight and then I’d go home. From now on, I decided what I wanted.

  I dropped the pill into the toilet and flushed.

  In the car ride back from the show I shook with anxious rage.

  Fucking Klonopin. Pardon my swearing. But was he clucking kidding me?

  I knew the power of prescription drugs. They saved a lot of people’s lives when prescribed correctly and controlled by professionals. They weren’t candies to be thrown around at the first sign of stress. What he did was selfish and dangerous.

  “Can cause paranoid or suicidal ideation and impair memory, judgment, and coordination. Combining with other substances, particularly alcohol, can slow breathing and possibly lead to death,” Blithe’s text read.

  Suzie followed up with, “Often used to treat panic attacks and numb the brain.”

  “Highly habit forming,” Gretchen added. And then right after “Read: STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM.”

  These lovely women had responded within minutes of me sending that first text. I’ve said it before and I would say it again: they could easily rule the world. Their messages waited on my phone after my performance. I sent a very short text back letting them know I hadn’t taken it and that I was fine. Because apparently sending that text and then disappearing for a few hours was on the “not cool” list of things to do to your girlfriends.

  I had performed like the subservient little cellist I was. What was I even doing? Was this living? Because, I had to say, it didn’t feel like it. I’d been such an idiot. Letting myself see what I wanted to see rather than face something that felt too big. Devlin had made me feel so much that I’d become overwhelmed by the possibilities. I was so afraid of making the wrong choice. Well, here I was quickly understanding I had made the absolute worst choice.

  We drove in silence. At least, I was silent. Roddy jabbered on about likes and reposts and all the interest in a fall tour. My head was back against the seat. It would have been bad enough if he’d offered the pill to anyone, but he knew I’d been to rehab. The nagging suspicion I’d carried the last few weeks fully formed in my mind.

  I narrowed my gaze toward him and spoke over whatever he was saying. “What did the note you sent me in rehab say?”

  He stilled. “Let’s not talk about that. It was a dark time in your past. You don’t like talking about it.” His words sounded like a mantra. Like if he repeated them to me enough, I’d believe them.

  “Actually, I don’t mind talking about it,” I said. “It helps me move past it. Tell me what the note said.”

  “I’ve asked you not to bring up those notes. It embarrasses me.”

  How had I never seen through his facade? I was a willfully blind participant in the hostile takeover of my life. The truth burned through the fog of my mind, shining light on everything.

  “It was only three words. Of course you can remember,” I kept my voice light.

  “I can’t remember. That was a hundred years ago. Let’s not discuss such an awful time.” His complexion grew ruddy.

  “No. It wasn’t awful. It made me the person I am. I’m tired of pretending it never happened.”

  “You’re all worked up. When we get back to the hotel, we’ll go to the bar and have a drink.” He loosened his tie to undo the top two buttons.

  “Tell me what it said.” I knew I sounded crazy, persistent, mad. I couldn’t care less.

  “That was over ten years ago. I can’t remember.”

  “Three words?” I persisted.

  He grabbed my hand, while the other held the steering wheel. He smiled at me in the most charming way as he glanced from me to the road. That smile had probably gotten him out of a hundred sticky scenarios throughout the course of his life.

  “‘I love you,’ of course. That’s what I said. And it’s still true to this day.” He squeezed my hand.

  I squeezed back before lifting it off mine. I leaned back with a sigh and smiled. It was as though I could take a full breath again. All the fear and worry about making the wrong choice melted away.

  I felt weightless with relief.

  “It was never you,” I said.

  His coolness burned away in an instant. “Oh, for fucks sake!”

  I jolted back at the sudden outburst. He’d never shown anything other than sweet insistence in my presence.

  “Roddy,” I chided.

  “It will never be enough, will it?”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “I gave you everything. I do everything for you and you always go back to those fucking notes.”

  “It’s not about the notes. I’m not happy here. I want to go home.” I could make this choice with no hesitation.

  “The SOOK won’t have you. And nobody knows where Devlin ran off to this time. That’s what this is about isn’t it? You think he wants you still? You were a fleeting muse.” He punched the cushion of the car seat.

  With Devlin, the rage always felt hollow, an empty bolster to hide his clear insecurities. Roddy felt dangerous, spitting poison before he might attack.

  “This isn’t about Devlin either. I’m going home.”

  I decided my own fate. No more putting my life in other people’s hands.

  “This is about him. It always is,” he grumbled. Louder he said, “After everything I did for you? Carla’s sudden absence? Come on. I got you that solo.”

  I blinked totally in shock. Was he really this ugly inside?

  “Roddy. What did you do?”

  “I did what needed to b
e done. Just like I always have. Since camp. Yet you refuse to see the better man. The man right in front of you. I’m a man of action. That was what you wanted. You wanted me to take the lead. Do you know how much work all this took? And now what? You’re backing out because of some notes?”

  “Roddy, please.” My heart beat so erratically, I thought I might slide into a panic attack.

  He didn’t stop. “I tried to protect you. I tried to put the past away. But you have to keep bringing it up, don’t you? You think I don’t remember what happened with Ariana at camp? I haven’t forgotten what you made me do. Don’t pretend you aren’t just like me.”

  My entire body went icy. I closed my eyes against the accusation. Everything he said was my deepest fear.

  “No,” my voice was a whisper.

  “You’re exactly like me. You do what it takes to be the best.”

  I thought of what Devlin told me. I had the potential to be better. I could give back now. I could stop living in fear and I would be better.

  “No!” I yelled out. I balled my fists against my knees. I glared at his profile. “I’m not like you. I don’t want to hurt people.”

  He shot a look to me. “You’re hurting me. I set this all up for you, but you don’t like it so you’re quitting.”

  I lifted my chin. “I finished the tour. I never signed on for anything more.”

  “Christine, please.” He pulled onto the shoulder of the road and put the car in park. Immediately he grabbed my hands. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? We are a good team.” He took a deep breath and laughed a smile back into place. “Let’s just calm down. Trust me, you need this tour more than I do.”

  “Do I?” He had been pushing it from the first day. What exactly did he benefit?

  “Where will you go?” he asked. “What will you do?”

  “I’m not sure. But I’ll figure it out. I will decide.”

  “You need someone to take care of you.” He squeezed my hand in his clammy one. “I will always take care of you.”

  I pulled my hand free. Lightness I hadn’t felt in years filled me.

  “I can take care of myself.”

  Chapter 37

  First of all, I’ve been a fool.

  DEVLIN

  If people had thought I’d go around moping or pitying myself they were damned wrong. I left the auditorium after the Fourth of July concert, I went home, and I continued on with my life as a composer. Cut my losses and moved on. I didn’t need the SOOK. I certainly wasn’t about to go crawling back to them. I didn’t need Kim. She’d chosen Chagny.

  I was fine.

  But …

  Being home, seeing all the places I’d shared with her … I couldn’t always muster the anger. I remembered everything about her; the gut-cramping laughter when she’d scared the crap out of me and then laughed at me for my perfectly legitimate response. In the bathroom, the way her eyes had burned with lust when she found me naked. I remembered her devotion to the music, to me, and I couldn’t think anymore. Nights were the worst. I didn’t sleep. I smelled her, tasted her, felt her, longed for her as though she was still a possibility. I thought of all the times she’d been so close and I didn’t just tell her my feelings. I should have held her more. I should have put it all out there. It was like feeling deathbed-sick and cursing myself for all the times I took my health for granted.

  No matter how I lied to myself, her absence was a physical, constant ache.

  No texts. No calls.

  No notes.

  I was lonely. The further from that last night I got, the more ashamed I grew. I hadn’t handled things very well. My shame kept me in solitude. It took almost two months until Wes managed to guilt me into another family dinner.

  “We know you aren’t working. It’s all over the news that you were fired again. We’re all coming over tonight. Make sure you’re dressed.”

  They arrived at their usual time. Rose and Ellie wore matching Wonder Woman dresses and hugged each of my legs.

  “Uncle Erik!”

  “Daddy said that we could watch your fancy TV and eat on the couch,” Rose said looking up from where she gripped me.

  I took three-wide legged steps with them attached like barnacles, as they screamed in delight. “Oh, he did? Well, that’s fine, but you tell Daddy he can replace the couches if anything happens to them.”

  They laughed and ran into the kitchen, and when they passed again on the way to the TV room, their arms were laden with snacks. Wes passed with Kelly. I hugged her and flicked his ear.

  “Ouch,” he winced.

  “Oh, Erik, you’re too skinny,” Kelly said squeezing my waist.

  My mom hugged me next. “I’m watching you tonight. You’re eating two helpings.”

  “Okay, Ma.”

  Dad hugged me with a hearty back slap. “You were too good for that place anyway. They didn’t know what they had in you.”

  “Right,” I said. “I wasn’t fired. I quit,” I said but they all looked at me with faces of pity that said they weren’t buying it for a second.

  “About that.” Ma shot glances at the rest of my family.

  “Care to explain this?” Wes handed me his phone with an article pulled up.

  “The Devil of the Symphony walks again …” I shoved the phone back at him after reading.

  “What is this? You told us you were fired. This article says you quit the last three places,” Ma said. “I don’t understand.”

  I shook my head. Cold dread weighted down my shoulders. I didn’t want them to find out the truth this way.

  “Let’s forget it and just eat.”

  My mom and dad had picked up pizza and salad from a place in town on their way up the mountain. Conversation was polite enough, but it wasn’t long before my mom spoke her mind.

  “Ellie, can you go take Rose to watch TV?” Ma asked.

  My older niece grinned. “Sure, Grammy.”

  The little girls giggled and ran out of the room and I waited for her to lay into me.

  “Mom, what is it?” I asked. Her heavy stares had been boring into the side of my face in a way that only moms knew how to do.

  “Why have you been telling us you were fired? Why did you let everybody spread those rumors about you?”

  “It’s complicated.” I pushed away the half-eaten slice. “They didn’t understand me. Once they found out I was Erik Jones, that’s all they cared about. They asked me to play the song at performances for the symphony.”

  “So, play the song,” Wes said. “What’s the big deal?”

  “It’s not theirs.” I slammed my fist down. Wes’s eyebrows shot up. “And I’m tired of that being all people care about. All the work I’ve done kept getting pushed to the back burner.”

  “You quit to prove a point?” Wes asked.

  I lowered my voice. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  Wes raised his eyebrows like I was crazy. He looked to Ma for support and she shook her head as though to tell him to stop. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” But she held something back. “Where will you go?”

  “Ma, you know I can’t stay here. Not now. I was only supposed to be here for the season anyway.”

  Wes and Kelly exchanged a look. The same look my parents gave each other.

  “It’s just such a shame when you leave this big house empty while you’re gone,” Ma said.

  “We will move in,” Wes jumped in.

  “I just don’t understand what happened. We’ve seen what the news said. But we know there has to be more to it than that,” Dad said.

  “Not really. I have a temper. I punched Roderick Chagny in his rat-face and I was fired. Well, I quit before that. Technically.” More or less.

  “Is this because of Kim?” Dad asked. “I was hoping she might still come around. I watched that documentary she suggested.”

  “Kim is gone. She’s on tour with Chagny,” I said.

  “She’s doing really well. I follow her on Instagram,” Kelly added. “I never got to m
eet her, but she seems … lovely.”

  “That’s not her. That’s a doll being dressed up to get downloads. That’s Christine Day.”

  The table went silent as I brooded.

  “I’m sorry. You seem very upset about her being gone,” Ma said.

  “I’m fine. She’s the one that left. She chose that guy who is clearly using her. It’s the life she picked.”

  Wes sat back and sighed. “You can’t put it all on her, man.”

  “What?” I glared at him.

  Ma flicked a glance to me. Dad and Kelly stayed quiet.

  “You’re playing the victim in all this,” Wes continued.

  “I am not. I just don’t care.”

  “You clearly do.”

  I might as well put it all out there. Everybody else was going to take Chagny and Kim’s side in all this. I wanted somebody on my side.

  “I gave her a choice. She chose him. She walked away after committing to me—to the solo.”

  “You gave her a choice?” my mom asked. “How? What does that mean?”

  I explained about the notes. About how close we’d grown. About how that asshole had pretended they were his. How I punched him, and how he’d fully deserved it.

  “She could never make a choice. Never. She wanted somebody like him to take all that pressure off her shoulders,” I finished.

  “So,” Dad started. “Knowing that she finds decision making difficult, you put her on the spot with Chagny. The man who she’s spent her whole life thinking was the author of those notes. Then made her choose, and risk hurting somebody no matter what? All the while not telling her the truth.”

  I blinked. Well, when he put it that way, of course it sounded bad.

  “She had no qualms about hurting me. She chose him. I was only ever the fun-time guy before Chagny.” My fork flew as I slammed the table with my fist. “And come on, she should have known about the notes. Chagny? Really?”

  “Do you honestly believe that?” Ma pushed her plate back too and crossed her arms. “Because we all met her and don’t believe for a second that she uses people. And were you two close back at camp? If she didn’t know the notes were from you, then how would she have ever guessed you’d sent them? Especially if he’d claimed to be writing them. Why would she doubt that?”