by Lisa Suzanne
“Because they’re after your money. But what if you took a test and found out it was true? Wouldn’t you want to do the right thing?”
He raises a brow as his eyes darken, but then he laughs. “Why? You hear something from someone?”
I shake my head with a little bit of disgust. “You’re missing the point. Take it seriously.”
“You know I don’t take anything seriously unless it has to do with money or the band.” He glances back up at the game and eventually turns it off.
“I know,” I mutter. “And you know what? That’s a really shit attitude to go through life with.”
“All right,” he says casually, leaning back against the couch across from me and tossing both his arms casually across the back. “I’ll play. So let’s say I knocked some bitch up with my superhuman seed.” He shrugs. “It was one night, obviously, since homie don’t play more than that, and the rules and intentions were clear from the start that one night was all it would ever be. I cover my bases because I don’t want kids.”
“So you’re really saying that if you did have a kid out there, you wouldn’t do anything about it?” I press.
“It’s not like that kid would’ve been created out of love or out of some intrinsic need to be with the other person. It was created by accident, and what kind of life could I give him or her anyway?”
“Tyler and Dustin seem to be doing just fine,” I point out.
“Because Tyler and Dustin grew up in normal, functioning families and want that life,” he says, drawing one arm away from the back of the couch to rub the back of his neck, and I can’t help but think this whole conversation is making him uncomfortable. “It’s not for everybody. Look, man. You and me are cut from the same cloth. We’re not like Tyler and Dustin, you know? We’re better off this way.”
“You know, high school health teachers would tell you to be abstinent then,” I say. “If you really think it’s not for everybody.”
He laughs. “I fucked my high school health teacher, so what’s your point?”
“If you don’t want kids, don’t risk putting one in somebody.” I shrug.
“You followed that rule, too, didn’t you?” he asks.
I press my lips together. “No, and look where I ended up. Now I don’t know what to do.”
“So what are you going to do about it? Stand up and be a father?” He says the second part sarcastically.
“I don’t know,” I lie, and I’m not sure why I’m lying to my best friend about this. It seems like the type of conversation we should be able to have, yet I don’t want to have it. I don’t want him to know the truth. I don’t want him to know that he’s right. I don’t want to see him gloat when I tell him my decision because there’s nothing to gloat about.
I know what I need to do.
I love that kid, and I love the woman who’s suddenly responsible for raising him.
They’re both better off without me.
My father taught me that your best is never good enough. That just tells me that even if I try my hardest to be a good father to Chance and to be the man Hannah deserves, I’ll never be good enough. They both deserve more, and they always will.
I’ll give them a stable future—both of them. But I think what would really provide a stable future is to give them one without me in it.
I want Hannah to have the chance to move forward with her life, to study social work if that’s what she wants or to take pictures of flowers if that’s what she wants. I want her to fall in love with somebody who will be a wonderful father to my son. And I want her to do it all wherever she wants to do it.
I’ll get her out of that shithole she lived in in Phoenix and buy her whatever house she wants. I’ll make sure they both have the means to live comfortable lives. But my only answer here is to drop them off in Phoenix after this tour ends.
I’m in no position to care for Chance myself even though I’m his legal guardian, and I’m also not in a position to invite them to move in with me at my place in Los Angeles.
So I’ll figure out what paperwork I need to sign over full custody to Hannah...if she wants it, that is. If she doesn’t, I guess that will throw a wrench into my plans but I’ll cross that bridge if I need to.
She’ll want it. She won’t let him go to the courts, and that’s why I know she’s the right choice. I see how she is with that little boy, and if there’s anybody equipped to raise my child, it’s definitely her. She loves him like he’s her own, and they’ll have each other to rely on for the rest of time once I file the paperwork to make it so.
We have a little over two weeks left on this tour, and I’ll do what I can to stay out of her way with the time that remains.
My phone rings, and I see it’s Danielle calling me.
“What?” I answer, ever the gentleman.
“Listen, you asshole, that sweet girl saved your ass. Do you even realize that?”
My brows dip. “How?”
“She saw the photos that were released and she was able to easily see how they were photoshopped. It’s all over the gossip sites now, and somehow you’re coming out looking like some hero even though you were probably high on cocaine that night.”
“I was,” I admit. “How am I looking like a hero?”
“Because somebody got wind of Chance and they’ve turned the story into how this former bad boy has reformed into a father who’s taking care of his kid and the only living relative the kid has left. They’re on a witch hunt for the crazy woman who photoshopped this image of you.”
“How’d they get wind of Chance?” I ask softly.
“Our circle’s not that small,” she says. “It was bound to hit the media. My guess is one of the workers at one of the venues we’ve stopped at over the last few weeks.”
Of course. Someone somewhere found out and probably got a nice payday by giving the story to the media.
I wish I could protect him from the circus that’s my life. Her, too. And that’s just further evidence that I’ve made the right decision.
CHAPTER 42: HANNAH
We’ve toured through Texas and New Mexico and now we’re onto Vegas. We’re here for five nights with tons of appearances plus two sold-out concerts, and then it’s onto San Diego and finally Los Angeles for the final two stops of the tour.
As time marches forward, I hate how far apart we’ve grown. Brett hardly talks to me. He barely even looks at me. He occasionally picks up Chance or talks to him or interacts with him, but he seems like he’s buried himself in work.
When we’re on the bus, he’s often by himself at the table on his laptop, or he’s in the bedroom doing who knows what. When we’re at hotels, he spends more time in Tommy’s room than in ours. He wasn’t like this at the start of the tour. I don’t know if this is typical tour behavior or not, but it sure feels different than the first few weeks did when we seemed to have unlimited time together.
We’re almost at the end of this tour. I’m still taking pictures each night, and I still study them afterward. When he plays, I expect some of his energy and enthusiasm to return...but it just doesn’t. He’s going through the motions, but that’s about it. I see the distance in his eyes, and I feel it hanging all around me like a sad cloud.
It’s clear that the end of this tour will be the end of my relationship with him, but I don’t know what it means for Chance. And I’m terrified about that.
I hate that I won’t get to see Danielle and Amanda as often. They’ve become my best friends—my only friends, really, and they’ve both admitted to me that they’ve seen a change for the worse in Brett.
But they’ve also told me he’s not out trolling for women. I wonder about the perfume I smelled that one night, but I don’t mention it. I choose to believe them instead.
It’s the one thing I cling to in this darkness. Maybe he’s just doing it out of respect for me since I’m still along for the ride, but even if that’s the case, then fine. I’d much prefer not to hear about his conquests anyway.
It’s our last day in Vegas before we board the bus toward San Diego, the final state on this tour, when I finally broach the topic with him. He only stopped by our hotel room to change his clothes and check on Chance, and I sort of blindside him with my question.
“Can we talk?” I ask softly.
He glances at me, and it seems like it’s the first time his eyes have met mine in weeks. It’s comforting, and it’s only then I realize how lonely I’ve felt without his hand in mine even though I’m surrounded by people. “I need to get back to Tommy’s room. We have an appearance—”
I cut him off. “The appearance isn’t for hours and I know you’re ducking out to avoid me and that’s fine. But I need to know what comes next. I need to know what you’re thinking so I can prepare to deal with whatever it is.” I glance up at the ceiling as I try to ward off the tears burning behind my eyes. “Are you...” I choke on my words before I force out the rest of the question. “Are you taking him from me?”
He stares at me for what feels like forever, and my heart thumps loudly in my chest—so loudly I’m sure he can hear it across the room.
I’m terrified of his answer. I become more and more panicked by the silence with each passing second.
And then he finally says, “I’m not a good man, Hannah. I’m not right for you, and I’m not right for him.” He shakes his head. His voice is soft and, surprisingly, a little vulnerable. “I can’t separate the two of you, so I’m planning to sign over custody rights to you.” He ducks his gaze away from me. “If you want them. I’ll support the two of you financially. You’ll never have to worry again. But you’re better off without me.”
The tears I tried to ward off a second ago tip over as that old familiar feeling of grief kicks in again. It’s so familiar at this point that it’s like an old friend coming back to visit, except it’s not a friend, it’s the worst kind of enemy. My stomach is in knots and my chest aches and how the hell could he think we’re better off without him? Just being without him when he’s in the next room, so close yet so far...it’s been pure torture.
I can’t imagine not seeing his face every single day. I can’t imagine not seeing Chance light up at the sight of him. Even though he’s backed away, he’s still been there.
And now...he won’t be.
Another important person to just disappear from Chance’s life. From my life.
My heart hurts, and I think it’s physically breaking.
It shouldn’t hurt this bad. Not when we’ve been apart for weeks now, and not when I had time to brace myself for this very moment.
But to hear those words out of his mouth, that he’s just going to sign rights over to me if I want them...it’s too much for me.
My little tears turn into a gasp of a sob, and then I turn and run into the bedroom of yet another suite—one where Chance is currently napping, so I try to be quiet—because I don’t want Brett to see me like this.
I don’t want him to see how much he’s breaking my heart.
Because if he thinks we’re better off without him...well, he’s probably right.
And it doesn’t matter anyway. He’s clearly already moved on, so it’s probably time for me to do the same. I just have no experience with relationships, so obviously I was more invested than him.
I have to blame these intense feelings on that. It’s my only choice.
I still had that glimmer of hope that we’d find some way to work things out, that we’d overcome these obstacles because somehow we were meant for each other.
It sure felt like we were meant for each other...but again, I guess that’s just my inexperience talking.
The preciously short few weeks we had are weeks I’ll hold forever in my heart.
But as I cry by myself in a hotel room in Las Vegas, staring down at the bright, blinking lights of a street I never thought I’d see in person with my sister’s baby a few feet away and my heart cracked into a million tiny pieces...that final glimmer of hope is extinguished.
CHAPTER 43: HANNAH
I stay on tour to fulfill my commitment to the band through the final two shows in Los Angeles. This should have been the time Brett took me back to his house, a place where I’d learn more about him and his way of life outside of the tour, but instead he reserved me a hotel room and sent a car to usher me to and from the concerts.
Karl invites me to a band meeting the next morning at Tyler’s house, which cuts close to my flight back to Phoenix, but I need to return Dustin’s camera and the laptop Karl let me borrow to download and edit last night’s pictures.
I meet Jo, Brett’s cousin and the assistant he splits with Tommy. She lives near here in Los Angeles, and she came to the meeting, too, even though she wasn’t on tour. Some other people are here as well. I assume they’re with the record label or some sort of executives. I’m introduced to Trevor, an executive from Ashmark Records, as well as Miranda, an agent of some sort, and another agent named Clay, but their names leave me as soon as they’re spoken. It doesn’t matter. I’m not part of this group anymore. I won’t be seeing them again, so their names aren’t important for me to remember.
Instead, I’m just trying to hold it together.
Brett and Tommy look supremely hungover even though Karl waited to start the meeting at eleven. It’s the morning after the last show of the tour, and Danielle made it sound like traditionally it’s a pretty big party night for the guys...but I wouldn’t really know since I wasn’t invited along.
Karl starts the meeting by addressing me. “Thank you to everyone for an outstanding tour. We’ll get into the logistics in just a bit. We’ll start with Hannah since she needs to get on a plane and her car’s already waiting out front. I want to thank you, Hannah, for your incredible photos. Because of you, we have the types of images that will not just fill social media for the next decade and give us promotional material for years to come, but that will inspire people in so many different ways.”
Everyone nods their agreement with Karl’s words. Well, I think they do. I don’t actually look at Brett to see if he shares the same sentiments.
“Thank you for inviting me to be part of your circle,” I say softly. “It was an amazing adventure and I was honored to capture just a shred of your talents in those little moments of time.”
“You’re crazy talented,” Tyler murmurs.
“Thank you.” I don’t say more because I can’t speak over the lump in my throat. I take that opportunity to return Dustin’s camera to him while I try to swallow my emotion. I clear my throat. “Chance and I need to get to the airport, so I better say goodbye.”
The tears start as I hug Danielle and Amanda, who promise to keep in touch. I wonder if they really will. I’m not a part of this inner circle anymore, and I can’t help but think our friendship lives and dies with the band.
Dustin and Tyler give me hugs. Tyler high-fives Chance, something he taught the little boy, and he calls him his “little buddy” as he tells him he’ll miss having him around.
I mourn for the fact that it’s Tyler who’s treating him this way instead of his own father. I’m devastated that we couldn’t find that connection with Brett.
Tommy basically pats my back without getting too close, and Karl gives me a hug and tells me he’ll miss having me around, something surprising to me considering we rarely connected.
And that’s it...except for one final goodbye. Brett presses his lips together. “I’ll walk you out.”
He carries my suitcase and the diaper bag—the two things I can manage while flying solo with a baby. He’s already shipped the rest of our things to my shitty apartment in Phoenix, all those things Danielle and I shopped for before I joined the tour. Back when life was hard for different reasons.
It’s only now I think about how I’m returning home to the apartment I shared with my sister. She’s been gone now for over three months, but the last time I was there it had been days since I lost her. I don’t even know how to return to that place without se
eing her everywhere along with the reminders of losing yet another important person in my life.
I don’t know how I’m just supposed to pick myself up and move forward.
He puts the suitcase in the car along with the duffel bag, and my broken heart crumbles further as I wonder whether this is the last time I’ll ever see his face. He doesn’t want to be a part of our lives, and while the checks he’ll send will be helpful, I realize now that money doesn’t buy happiness.
I’ll have money in the bank, which is a nice security, but I won’t have him. I don’t have my sister.
All the money in the world can’t make either of those things okay.
I hand Chance over to Brett while I secure his carrier into the backseat of the car, and he squeezes the little boy until Chance lets out a little squeal of protest. Tears fill my eyes as I watch this father say goodbye to his son. How can he do this? How can he just...let Chance go?
A tiny voice inside my head tells me why.
It’s because he loves us, too. He has to.
He wants Chance and me to have the best life we can have, and he’s convinced that letting us go is better than being around.
I’m convinced of the opposite.
He presses a kiss to Chance’s cheek, and it marks the first time I’ve ever seen him express his love for Chance through a kiss. He straps Chance into the carrier, and then he turns to me.
He reaches out for me and runs his hands up and down my biceps, and then he grips them and pulls me into him.
I’m surprised at the force of his hug, but I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze back. We hold each other tightly for an achingly beautiful moment that’s far too short, and then he slackens his hold on me.
He leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead before he lets me go. “Take care of him,” he whispers, and then he turns to go back into the house.
That’s it.
His final words to me.
Take care of him.
I cry the entire way to the airport with his final words echoing in my head.
