by Codi Gary
Gemma hoped her look spoke volumes. She would deal with Travis after she got the trespassers off her lawn.
“Charlie, stay away from the window,” she ordered as she picked up the phone.
“Who are you calling?” Travis asked.
“The police station. I’m going to ask Sam to run them off,” Gemma said.
Sam picked up the phone on the second ring. “Rock Canyon Police Department.”
“Sam, it’s Gemma,” she said, her voice trembling with adrenaline.
“Hey, Gemma, everything okay?”
“No. I need you guys out here. Some reporters have decided to make their new home on my lawn,” she said.
“Hope mentioned seeing news vans on her way to work. How many are there? You want me to arrest them for trespassing?” Sam asked, talking in his usual fast pace.
“I don’t know, a lot. And you can do anything you want with them, as long as they’re gone soon,” Gemma said.
“All right. We’ll head over there and take care of it.”
“Thanks,” Gemma said, hanging up the phone. Turning to her son, she said, “Honey, go pack a bag. You’re going to stay with Grandma for a little bit.”
“But, Mom . . .”
“I mean it, Charlie. Please?”
Charlie went upstairs with a petulant expression on his face.
“Don’t you think you’re panicking a little? People were going to find out eventually. At least if we talk to someone, give them a candid interview, we can get ahead of this,” Travis said after Charlie closed the door of his room.
Gemma fumed at his casual solution, waving off the fact that he’d kept vital information from her. If only Travis had opened his mouth instead of “handling it,” she could have taken Charlie somewhere to wait for the chaos to die down.
All she’d ever tried to do was protect Charlie. From bullies. From snakes and cars and awful people, and now it was all for nothing. She couldn’t shield him from the things that people would say about her, about Travis, even about Charlie himself.
“I can’t believe I let this happen. I knew better. I should never have gone to that stupid book conference or let you talk me into lunch or that benefit or . . .”
“Whoa, back up. So, what you’re saying is it would have been better to never have seen me again? And just kept Charlie and me apart?” Travis asked, his face turning purple with anger.
“I don’t know, maybe! Or at least for you not to have tricked me into marrying you when I was drunk,” Gemma snapped, knowing the words were a lie but too furious to care.
“I didn’t trick you into anything. You wanted to marry me.”
“Really? Funny that I can’t remember half of it.”
“You weren’t drunk when you told me you loved me,” Travis said pointedly.
“Maybe I was wrong about that, too. God knows I’ve been pretty stupid the last week and a half,” Gemma said coldly.
Travis took two steps toward her, and she had to crane her neck to look up at him.
“Are you trying to say you don’t love me, Gemma? That you want me to leave?”
Stop being an idiot and apologize. This isn’t his fault.
She didn’t listen to the voice of reason, though. “Yes. I think you should go.”
His voice lowered. “You didn’t answer my other question.”
“What does it matter?”
“It matters a lot. Do you love me?”
“I just think we rushed this.” She took a deep breath, trying to swallow the lump of tears in her throat and say what she needed to, before she changed her mind and gave in. “It’s obvious we don’t trust each other and probably never will. You didn’t trust me enough to tell me that we’d been outted to the media.”
“I’m sorry about that, but that had nothing to do with trusting you. I wanted to have more time, build what I thought was a new beginning.” He tried to reach out to her, but she sidestepped out of his grasp, and his hands fell away. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I was worried you would freak out. I wanted us to have enough time to rebuild, so when something like this happened, we’d stand by each other.”
“It’s not about the time, Travis. This was a mistake, and we both know it. In Vegas it was about nostalgia and trying to get back that feeling of first love, but I think we were just deluding ourselves when we said we could start over. There’s too much water under the bridge to muddle through, so maybe we should just call it off while we can. Before things get worse.”
“Let me get this straight: You want to go back on our deal to make a fresh start, to make our marriage work, because something happened that wasn’t my fault? I had nothing to do with these reporters being here. I tried to keep you out of this.”
“You also weren’t honest with me about what was going on, and you knew I was concerned about something like this happening.” She forgot for a minute about the reporters outside as her voice rose. “And I wouldn’t say you had nothing to do with this. They’re here because you’re a big star with a scandal to expose.”
“It wouldn’t be a scandal if you’d told me you were pregnant when you found out. You have to shoulder some of the responsibility for this mess, Gemma. I can’t be the bad guy all the time.”
“You’re never the bad guy! I am. That’s what our time together has been about. Me apologizing for a decision I made. Well, I’m done groveling. I groveled for twenty years to my dad and I’m done. I made a mistake, I said I was sorry several times, and now I’m telling you that I don’t regret what I did. I gave my son a normal life, and rehashing the past again won’t change anything. As long as you’re here, they’ll be here, too, and I need to think of Charlie.”
“Don’t you think Charlie wants to have me here?” Travis asked.
“Of course he does, and I’m not saying you can’t see him, I’m just saying that maybe we should give it a little time until this dies down,” she said.
“And us, Gemma? What about our marriage? Our second chance?” Gemma tried to look away. but he grabbed her chin firmly. “No, you look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.”
Gemma had never been strong until Charlie was born, and then she’d had to be. Travis was the last of her weaknesses, and if she didn’t tell him to go, it would only get worse. Travis said they just needed more time to build a relationship with trust and respect, but what if it never happened? They’d be stuck in a marriage of convenience for the sake of their son, and eventually, her original fear would come true. Travis would resent her, and she would lose him anyway.
“No, Travis. I don’t love you.”
Travis dropped his hand from her face and took several steps back. “If that’s how you really feel, I’ll have my lawyer get in touch with you to see about getting that divorce you wanted, and handle the custody situation with Charlie, too.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
Travis stopped at the door. “It means that just because you want me out of your life doesn’t mean I’m giving up my son.”
“I wouldn’t keep you from him,” Gemma said hollowly.
Travis’s smile was bitter. “I’ll send for my things. Tell Charlie . . . just tell him I love him and I’ll see him soon.”
Travis opened the door, and Gemma saw the flash of cameras as it closed behind him.
Hearing a sob, Gemma looked up the stairs and saw Charlie standing at the top, his small hands clenched into fists.
“You ruined everything!” he screamed.
“Charlie . . .” Gemma started up, but he shook his head.
“I hate you! I hate you! I want to go with Dad!” Charlie yelled as he turned around and ran for his room, and then slammed the door.
Stunned, Gemma sat on the couch and buried her face in her hands. She didn’t blame Charlie for hating her, but it wasn’t necessary. Right now she hated herself enough for the both of them.
TRAVIS DROVE NORTH toward the highway, cursing George, cursing the reporters, and cursing himself for
not setting up the interview with Carol from Country Weekly earlier. If he had just given her the exclusive, it wouldn’t have been such a juicy story.
Of course, he found himself cursing Gemma, too. She was a coward; that was all there was to it.
If she wanted to pretend that there was nothing between them, that it had been a mistake, because she was scared of the hard stuff, then he was better off without her. He wasn’t going to beg her to change her mind. He did love her, probably always would, but she was right about one thing: how could you have a real marriage without trust? And she’d let him down enough in the last couple of weeks to make him wonder if he had been a fool to think they could have been completely happy.
A FEW OFFICERS had run off the reporters, but Sam warned Gemma they’d most likely lurk around town.
“Just call me if they bother you again, okay? Or if you need anything else,” Sam said.
“Thanks, Sam,” Gemma said as she closed the door after him. Sam’s concern was sweet, but she needed to fix things with Charlie. He still hadn’t come downstairs, not even to say hi to the officers, which wasn’t like him.
For the first time, she understood why her mom had kept her mouth shut until she could get her dad alone. Knowing Charlie had probably heard everything they’d said, things he hadn’t needed to hear, made her feel like the world’s worst parent. A good mom wouldn’t have flown off the handle in front of her child.
Walking into the kitchen, she splashed her face with warm water—trying to hide the tears she’d been fighting—and dried it on a towel. Making her way upstairs she called, “Charlie.”
He didn’t answer, and as she neared the door to his room, she said more firmly, “Charlie, you need to answer me. I know you’re angry, but I want to explain.”
She knocked again, and when he still didn’t answer, she turned the knob, opening the door quietly.
“Charlie?” She peeked inside, looking around the room, but he wasn’t there. The curtains of his window wafted in the breeze, and she ran toward them with a dreadful sense of foreboding.
Sticking her head out of the open window, she looked down and screamed.
TRAVIS’S PHONE RANG just as he was passing Mountain Home, and he held it up to see who it was. Gemma and Charlie’s smiling faces flashed across the screen, and he pressed reject. Whatever she had to say, she could leave it on his voice mail.
His message notification beeped, but he ignored it. Maybe, if he got to California a little early, George could arrange some interviews for him so he could at least clean up his reputation. He’d call Charlie when he reached the hotel and let him know he’d be back next week to see him. Right now, he needed space to think.
The phone rang again, and he shut it off.
Chapter Twenty-Four
* * *
GEMMA SAT NEXT to Charlie’s hospital bed, wiping at her tears and watching her baby sleep soundly. When the doctor had asked Charlie why he’d climbed out of the window, he hadn’t answered, but Gemma had had a feeling it was to get away from her. They’d been lucky he’d only fallen from the bottom branch of the tree and not from his window or it could have been worse than a broken arm and a mild concussion. The doctors had given him a sedative and wanted to watch him overnight, but they’d assured her that he was going to be okay.
“Gemma?” Gracie called from the doorway.
Gemma looked away from Charlie and asked, “Is Travis here?”
Gracie shook her head. “No. He hasn’t called back yet, but your mom’s on her way. Someone else is here, though.”
Gemma waited as Gracie waved whoever it was forward, and Mike came through the door with a wrapped gift in his hands, looking like he hadn’t slept.
“You look terrible,” Gemma said, only half joking.
Mike smiled a little as he came inside. “Yeah, drank a little too much last night.”
Gemma bit back a retort. It wasn’t her place to scold him, and she definitely shouldn’t be casting any stones at stupidity.
Silence stretched between them, and Mike cleared his throat. “How is he?”
“He’s okay. Going to have his arm in a cast for six weeks and a headache for a couple days, but he’ll make it,” she said, twisting her hands in front of her as she added, “I’m glad you came.”
Nodding toward Charlie, he said, “I couldn’t not come. I’ve been in his life since the day he was born. Just because we aren’t on the best of terms doesn’t mean I don’t love the hell out of Charlie.”
So many things went through her brain, but not one thought would form into words.
“Anyway, I brought him that new Wii game he’s been begging for, if you can make sure he gets it,” Mike said, setting the shiny package on the counter. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he added, “Look, Gemma, I’m sorry I was such a dick about the whole Travis thing. It’s none of my business what happens in your love life. I was just hurt and . . .”
Gemma couldn’t let him take all the blame. “You were right; I should have told you about what happened in Vegas. I took you for granted, and for that I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to use you, I was just afraid of losing you.” Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze and said, “We were friends before . . . do you think we could get back there?”
“I don’t know, Gemma. Maybe someday, but I think it’s going to take time and space. At least for right now.”
Reaching out, Gemma took his hand and squeezed it. “Thank you, Mike. For being my friend and for . . . for loving me. I can’t imagine it was easy, considering how messed up I am.”
Mike squeezed back. “Actually, you’re kinda easy to love, Gemma. It’s living without your love that’s hard.”
“Would it be too much to ask for a hug?” she asked, her voice choked with tears.
Without another word, he pulled her against him and just held her, like he’d done a hundred times before, and Gemma felt guilty, because deep down she wished it was Travis holding her instead.
TRAVIS TURNED ON his phone outside of Sacramento, intending to use it to find a decent hotel, but the minute everything loaded, it started beeping. Six . . . seven . . . eight . . . ten messages.
“Christ, Gemma,” he said, pressing the voice-mail button.
“Travis, please call me back. Charlie tried to climb out of his upstairs window and fell. We’re on our way to the hospital . . .”
Hospital. It was like someone had slammed into him with a cement truck; the pain was so immediate that he couldn’t catch his breath. Charlie had fallen out of a two-story window and Gemma had tried to call him, but he’d been such a stubborn bastard he’d turned off his phone.
Travis hung up and dialed her cell. One ring. Two rings.
“Come on. Come on. Come on!” he yelled.
“Hello?”
“Gemma?” Travis asked, knowing the voice wasn’t right.
“No, it’s Gracie,” she said, her voice chilly.
“Can you put her on? I want to know how Charlie is,” Travis said, trying to be patient.
“Gee, really? Twelve hours later and you’re worried about Charlie?” Gracie snapped.
Travis was getting tired of her attitude. “I had my phone off. Will you get her, or tell me how he is?”
“He’s got a broken arm and a mild concussion. They’re holding him overnight, but he should be okay.” Gracie’s tone said she’d hated giving in.
Travis breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God,” he said, hesitating before he asked, “And Gemma? Is she okay?”
“Like you care.”
Travis lost his temper. “You know what, Gracie? You don’t know what in the fuck you’re talking about, so why don’t you put Gemma on the phone?”
“Can’t, sorry. She’s busy making up with Michael. You know him, the guy who actually cares about her, unlike some selfish, immature asshole singer who thinks his shit don’t stink? And by the way, your last album sucked balls!” With that little dig, she hung up.
Grief and remorse overwhelmed T
ravis as he pulled the truck over and pounded his fist on the dash, yelling at the top of his lungs. Again, he hadn’t been there for his son. Only this time, it was his fault. Had he not lost his temper and taken off, had he just gotten a hotel room or gone to Buck’s for a beer, he would be there. Instead, another man was comforting his wife, and would be there when his son woke up.
He couldn’t lay all the blame on Gemma, although he wanted to. If she hadn’t panicked, if she hadn’t acted like a wimp, he wouldn’t have left.
They had both acted like stupid teenagers, all over again.
Getting his emotions under control, he called George. “George, when does your flight get into Sacramento? We need to talk.”
WHEN HER MOTHER arrived, Gemma had sat her down and explained everything, from her impromptu marriage to the last fight before Charlie’s accident. Her mother had been quiet, offering not one opinion, and Gemma had almost wished she’d berate her instead of patting her hand with sympathy. She didn’t deserve it.
“Why don’t you go get some coffee, or maybe take a nap, honey?” her mother suggested. “You look worn out.”
Gemma took her up on the offer and left the hospital room, heading toward the cafeteria. She was just getting ready to get a cup of coffee when Gracie caught up to her.
“Captain Douche Bag finally called.”
Gemma stopped pumping coffee into her cup and swung around. “Travis? Travis called?”
“Yeah, and I told him what a dick he was for ditching you and not answering any of your calls—”
Gemma turned her back on her and continued filling her cup, but Gracie must have seen something on her face because she asked, “What? What did I say?”
Taking a deep, bracing breath, Gemma said, “Travis left because I told him to.”
“What do you mean? Why would you do that?” Gracie cried.
Because I’m an idiot. “Because he knew that someone had leaked my name to the tabloids and he didn’t warn me. When I woke up this morning, there were hordes of reporters on the front lawn and I flipped out. I told him it was his fault and I wanted him to give us space.”
