by J. Nathan
“Hard to tell what the future holds. But right now, she’s doing exactly what we need her to do.”
I stared down at the sleeping baby. “She looks perfect.”
Elaine smiled. “I have some things to do. You’re welcome to stay here and rock her for as long as you like.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, not wanting to wake the sleeping baby. “I’ll come find you when I’m done.”
I watched Elaine leave, then my eyes were pulled back to the baby in my arms. Her little eyes twitched behind her thin—almost translucent—eyelids. I rubbed my thumb over her little chin. Her skin was so smooth and warm. The scent of baby powder drifted off her as I rocked the chair back and forth. I’m not sure how long I sat with her in my arms, but her eyes eventually opened.
“Hello there,” I whispered.
Trey told me drug addicted babies didn’t make eye contact. I watched closely, wondering where her eyes would go. She was too little to focus, but I began to hum “Rock-a-Bye Baby,” and she strained to look toward the sound.
A younger nurse shuffled by me and smiled.
“Excuse me?” I whispered to her.
She turned back.
“Does she have a name?”
She shook her head regrettably before walking away.
I inched closer to the baby and whispered, “I’m gonna call you…Claire.”
She shifted in my arms.
“I’ll take that as you like it,” I said to her.
The same nurse returned a little later carrying a bottle. “Would you like to feed her?”
My eyes widened. “I don’t know how.”
She grinned. “It’s easy.” She held the bottle to Claire’s mouth at a slanted angle.
I grabbed hold of the bottle, and Claire was already sucking the formula out.
“Once she drinks half an ounce,” the nurse continued. “Just hold her against your chest and rub her back. She’ll give you a little burp and you can continue feeding her a half ounce at a time until she won’t take any more.”
“Okay,” I said, looking as worried as I felt.
“You’ll be fine,” she assured me before walking off to tend to a crying baby across the room.
I held the bottle and watched Claire suck away at it, knowing how important the formula was for her little body. I checked the measurements on the side of the bottle. Once half an ounce had disappeared, I pulled the bottle from her mouth. Her little lips kept sucking even without the bottle there. I placed my finger in its place to stop the movement, but she sucked away at the tip of my finger.
“Hold on, little Claire. I just need to burp you.” I picked her up and placed her against my heart, rubbing her back in tiny circles. It took a minute but a small hiccup came out. I wasn’t sure at first if that was the burp, but once she began squirming and no other sound came, I settled her back into my arms and gave her the bottle, which she took willingly.
After the formula had disappeared and Claire had burped multiple times, she fell back asleep in my arms. Leaving her was going to be difficult. It wasn’t like I’d just been babysitting and someone was coming to claim her. She was there until she was strong enough to go to foster care. The thought wore on me, even after I had given her back to the nurse and she’d been placed in her bed.
I walked to Elaine’s office down the hall and stopped in her open doorway.
“How’d it go?” Elaine asked as she found me standing there.
“You have a wonderful facility and everyone is so nice.”
Her hopeful eyes stared at me, awaiting my news.
“I’m going to need to speak to my client to see how he’ll be able to assist.”
She nodded, and I could see the disappointment in her eyes. She wanted me to write the check right then. And I completely understood.
“I’ll be in Las Vegas for the weekend. Would it be okay if I came back? I’ve taken a liking to Claire.”
Her brows dipped. “Claire?”
My cheeks heated. “That’s just what I was calling her. It seemed fitting.”
She smiled a sad smile, likely thinking the same thing as me. How could a woman give birth to a child and leave it with nothing—not even a name? “Please come back. We’d love to have you.”
“Thank you.” I moved away from her door and made my way down the hallway, stopping to peek into the window of the nursery. Claire was still asleep. The nurses hurried around, trying to change and feed as many babies as they could. The volunteer rockers remained in their chairs. It was the most beautiful and heartbreaking thing I’d ever seen.
Treyton
I lay in the dark hotel room staring up at the ceiling. I’d contemplated playing the piano in the lobby, but I knew sleep was near. I knew it would pull me under soon if I allowed it to.
My phone buzzed on my nightstand, the call lighting up my room. I reached over and checked the screen. I blinked hard at the sight of Brie’s face on my phone. I’d taken a photo of her with her arms spread above her head in front of the Eiffel tower. I’d forgotten she’d made it her caller ID. The sight of her brought on a wave of sadness. As did the fact that she was calling me, and I knew I couldn’t answer.
Brie’s face disappeared from my screen and I lay in darkness once again.
That familiar emptiness I’d been feeling crept back into my chest. It had been weeks, and she hadn’t called to apologize. Now, nothing she said could change my mind about what she’d done, even if I had found my voice as an advocate for children born to addicts.
My phone pinged. Brie had left a message.
Did I want to hear her voice? Did I want to hear what she had to say?
I opened the voicemail and played it.
“Treyton, it’s Brielle. I’d be remiss if I didn’t reach out to you.”
My eyes narrowed at her formal tone.
“I’ve been contacted by the NICU coordinator at Las Vegas General. She asked me to come in to see their facility. I did and it’s amazing, but it needs help. It would be a complete disservice if you decided not to make a donation to them because of me. This is about these babies. And these babies need you. The coordinator’s name is Elaine and she’s wonderful. I’m texting you her number. Please make the donation you told me you’d be willing to make. Do it for these babies.”
The message ended, and I stared at my phone. Three weeks of silence and she reached out so I’d give money to a hospital. That was definitely the Brie I’d known for five years. No nonsense. Direct. Detached. I’d told her I didn’t believe that’s who she really was. But I was wrong. That’s exactly who she was.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Treyton
“I’d like to make a toast,” Z said as he raised his glass of beer at the head of the table.
The rest of the band, along with Aubrey, BJ, Arthur, and Reggie, lifted our glasses.
“To one hell of a world tour. Wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone but this amazing group of people.” His gaze circled the restaurant table, meeting each of our eyes, except Arthur, who we only tolerated.
“To the best lead singer a group could ever have,” I called out.
“Coming from anyone else, I’d think that was sincere,” Z shot back.
We all laughed and threw back our drinks.
This “last supper” was a tour ritual and always felt bittersweet. It was the end of our time together. We would now go our separate ways until we recorded our next album, had an appearance, or left for our next tour. Regardless which came first, I had a month off. And I had no fucking clue what I was going to do with so much time on my hands. Normally, I’d find some ladies to pass the time with. Now, I wasn’t sure.
“Treyton?”
I glanced up.
Aubrey stared at me from across the table. “Have you talked to Brielle?” Her glassy eyes told me she’d had a lot to drink. She normally wouldn’t ask me anything personal. That wasn’t our relationship.
I shook my head. She hadn’t asked if Brielle called.
She asked if we’d talked, and we hadn’t. “You?”
She shook her head, but I could see the sadness in her eyes.
And, as much as I appreciated Aubrey’s loyalty to me, I felt bad that she’d lost her friend.
“Sucks what happened with her,” Arthur slurred from beside me, his eyes glassier than Aubrey’s.
“What?” I said.
“She quit the company.”
“She quit the company?” Aubrey and I repeated at the same time.
He nodded. “It was time. Her father never wanted her to be part of his company to begin with.”
Why the hell would she quit the company? The choice was the job or me. In the end, we ended up being a package deal, but that didn’t mean she needed to quit the company. “Wasn’t she going to take over once he retired?” I asked.
He balked. “God no. There’s no way he’d let a woman take over the company he built from the ground up.” Arthur threw back the rest of his drink. “Especially one he isn’t even sure is his.”
My mouth hung open. “What?”
“Oh, yeah. The talk in the office is he never believed Brielle was his. He was gone so much, he assumed his wife had cheated.”
Holy. Shit. That would make sense. For a father to be such an asshole, there had to be more to it. I signaled for the waiter to bring Arthur another drink, suddenly wanting to keep him talking. “Does that mean he cheated on his wife when he was away?” I asked.
He scoffed. “Why do you think he lived in the city and not with his wife and Brielle?”
The waiter placed a new drink in front of Arthur who immediately took a long swallow.
“When Savage Beasts came along,” he continued, his nose and cheeks now cherry red with the heat of the alcohol. “Brielle had just graduated from college and was begging for a job. He didn’t want her working there, so we think he concocted a plan to watch her fail.”
“What’s that mean?” Aubrey asked.
“He assumed Savage Beasts would be a one hit wonder,” Arthur explained. “Then he could fire her for not doing a suitable job with their PR. He’s a real son of a bitch like that.”
Aubrey raised a brow at me, then turned to Arthur. “If she wanted to work there so badly, why do you think she quit the company? We were under the impression that when she left here, she started working with another band or something.”
He shook his head. “When her father pulled that no fraternizing card then leaked Treyton’s past to the press, she quit.”
My eyes widened as a cold chill rushed up my spine. “Hold up. What’d you say?”
“She quit,” he said.
“Before that,” Aubrey and I said in unison.
“He leaked your past to the press,” Arthur said, as if we should’ve known.
I fell back in my chair and dragged my hands through my hair. Her father leaked the information. I closed my eyes for a long moment, trying to control the sudden throbbing in my temples. She must’ve told him in a desperate attempt to change his mind about his ultimatum. But it didn’t. It only gave the asshole ammo to hurt us both. “Fuck me.”
Arthur looked between me and Aubrey. “What am I missing?”
With her face suddenly white as a ghost, Aubrey shook her head, realizing what we’d done. What we’d all done.
We fucked up.
Me worse than anyone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Brielle
My phone rang, pulling me out of a deep sleep. Darkness filled my hotel room as my hand shot out from beneath the comforter. I grabbed the phone from my nightstand, and squinted at the bright screen illuminating the room. My body stilled and my heartbeat accelerated at the sight of Trey’s name on my phone.
What could he want?
He hadn’t returned my call about the donation, nor had he called to apologize.
I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him now, so I sent the call to voicemail and tossed my phone back on the nightstand.
Two minutes later my phone beeped, signifying a voice message.
Dammit.
It was one thing to not want to speak to him. It was something else entirely to know he’d left a message.
I reached for my phone, clicked on the voicemail, and put it on speaker.
“Brie…”
Trey’s tortured voice sent a shiver coasting over me.
“I know you sent my call to voicemail and I don’t even blame you…”
Damn right he couldn’t blame me.
“I’m so damn sorry…”
I scoffed. Now he’s sorry?
“You did nothing to deserve what I said…”
Agreed.
“I know it was your father.”
You should’ve known that as soon as it happened.
“I screwed everything up.”
I closed my eyes, a small sense of satisfaction sweeping over me. But I wouldn’t allow myself to feel happiness over his regret. Over his delayed apology. He should have trusted me.
At least now the truth had come out.
“I want to see you. Face to face. I need you, Brie. I need you more than I realized.” And just like that, the message ended.
I opened my eyes and lay there with my mind spinning. Did I believe him? Did I trust that he was truly sorry for doubting me? I wasn’t someone who forgave easily. Trust was a difficult thing for me, and he had broken not only my trust but my heart too.
I needed him to regret hurting me. I needed him to feel the pain I’d felt after overhearing him and Z talk about me. I needed him to realize what he’d lost when he didn’t trust me. And, I needed him to prove I was the only person in the world for him.
And maybe—just maybe—I’d be able to look him in the eyes and see the guy I once saw.
* * *
“You’re still here?” a nurse who entered the family room in the NICU asked the following day.
“Still here,” I said, scrolling the newsfeed on my phone as I ate a salad. I’d stayed in Las Vegas a week longer than I expected to, visiting Claire every day. I couldn’t leave. I kept convincing myself she’d be okay, but then the next day I was right back there, holding her, feeding her, and comforting her.
My life was surely a mess.
I had no job.
No parents.
And, the closest person to me was a baby I’d soon be leaving.
Classic.
“Well, we love having you here,” the nurse assured me as she grabbed a drink and walked out.
Knowing I was wanted there warmed a piece of my heart that had for a long time lay dormant. My last few weeks with the band, feeling like part of a family, had begun to awaken that feeling. But, that was short lived, just like this would prove to be once I flew back home. To no job. And no one.
My finger stopped scrolling when a photo of Trey and a young man at a meet and greet in Monaco filled my screen. I skimmed the article beneath it. The young man was born to the same circumstance as Trey. Apparently, he and Trey had bonded.
At least something positive came from my father leaking his story. Now he could use his celebrity status for something good. Of course, he’d still mess around and get caught in compromising situations, but at least this would give him more of a purpose. He was a hell of a drummer, but that was superficial. What he’d use his abilities for—the greater purpose—was what truly mattered.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Brielle
I lay in the hotel bed my final night in Vegas watching Savage Beasts on the Late Night Show. It was their first U.S. appearance since returning from overseas—the last appearance I’d booked for them. I hadn’t returned Trey’s call. But, seeing him on television brought back a barrage of unresolved emotions. The host asked the guys about their next album, and Z fielded those questions.
“Treyton’s been doing a lot of the writing lately,” Z told the host.
“Oh, yeah?” The host looked to Trey beside Z on the sofa. “Treyton, what’s motivated you to step up and help write?”
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br /> “A girl,” Cam said from his stool behind the sofa.
The host smiled, and the studio audience broke into laughter. “A girl, huh? Anyone we know?”
Trey smiled and his eyes drifted to the camera for a brief moment. “No.”
“So, what is it about her that has you inspired?” the host persisted.
“He screwed up and she won’t take him back,” Cam added.
My eyes widened as Trey’s eyes cut to Cam, likely wanting to kick his ass.
“Ohhhh,” the host said. “So, these are sad songs you’re writing.”
“They’re not all sad,” Trey said. “Some of them are hopeful.”
The audience broke into a chorus of Awwwww.
The host looked to the audience. “Did you all not hear? He screwed up.”
The audience laughed.
“What’d you do?” the host asked Trey.
I sat up, my eyes locked on the screen. What would he say?
Trey shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I didn’t trust her when I should’ve.” He looked into the camera again, purposely talking directly to me. “She’s confident and strong and one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. I blew it, but I’m not giving up.”
The audience applauded his determination.
“Smart man,” the host said. “When you find the right one, you gotta hold onto her.”
The interview lasted a few more minutes. Then, the show cut to commercial.
I fell back onto the bed. Was he really not giving up?
* * *
Tears trickled down my cheeks as I rocked baby Claire for what I knew would be the last time.
I closed my eyes and hummed “Clair de Lune.” Claire cooed, and my eyes opened. I smiled through the tears. Her eyes were opened, and she stared up at me. “Hi, pretty girl. Do you like my song?”
Her eyes didn’t waver from mine. I would’ve given anything to know she’d be okay.
I continued humming as her eyes assessed my face. Was she memorizing me so she wouldn’t forget me the way I’d been memorizing her?
Motion outside the nursery window caught my attention. I glanced up. A cold chill filled my body. Trey stood there. He didn’t smile. He didn’t wave. He just stared at the baby in my arms. My heartbeat thumped against the wall of my chest.
