Lost in Us

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by Heidi McLaughlin




  formatted by E.M. Tippetts Book Designs

  Other Books by Heidi McLaughlin

  Lost in You

  The Beaumont Series

  Forever My Girl – Beaumont Series #1

  My Everything – Beaumont Series #1.5

  My Unexpected Forever – Beaumont Series #2

  Finding My Forever – Beaumont Series #3

  Finding My Way – Beaumont Series #4

  I wave and leave the stage. Cole offers me his arm and helps me down the ramp that leads to the dressing room, which in reality is a just fancy locker room. It’s another sell-out crowd in one of the largest venues in the United States and I don’t remember a single moment of it. I’m not ungrateful for what’s been afforded to me, but I’m bitter. The title of America’s Sweetheart has run its course, and there isn’t anything I can do about it. It’s not the fans’ faults, or even my manager’s. I can’t blame the media or the record label. The blame falls solely on my shoulders and those of my ex-fiancé, Ryan Stone. Except he doesn’t accept any blame for the demise of our five year relationship.

  My personal assistant and best friend extraordinaire, Alex, sits in my sunflower-filled dressing room rocking her newborn daughter. It’s crazy how the relationship between Alex and Cole – who I also once dated – garners more headlines than my being single for the past year. Ryan used to be a staple at my shows when we first got engaged. That was until his job became more and more important. I suppose the less the media saw of him, the less they cared. They just want to know how I can cope with the fact that my best friend married my ex and are both on tour with me. It’s easy; Alex and Cole were meant to be together, and we’re family.

  Sitting down in front of the large mirror, I stare back at the woman I am now. Not too long ago, I thought of myself as a young girl, but that ship has sailed. I’m fighting gravity and losing the battle every day. The dark bags under my eyes aren’t being cured by the cool cucumber slices I cover them with each and every morning. Gray hairs seem to rear their ugly heads seconds before a photo shoot, and the crow’s feet are driving me nuts. I shouldn’t look or feel this way, but that’s what stress does.

  When you lose the love of your life because you can’t find a happy medium, because neither of you can compromise and because neither of you are willing to give up your careers, it causes an unhealthy amount of stress. Stress leads to the rapid aging process that I’m experiencing now.

  I never thought I’d look in the mirror and be unhappy with what I see, but I am. Since Ryan left, the light in my eyes has been extinguished. The happiness in my smile is non-existent. Even when I walk, it’s without a purpose. Everyone experiences break-ups differently. Some need them in order to grow up, while others need them to escape and find themselves. I’m not sure what Ryan and I needed, except for time to stop so we could figure out what was going on. By the time either of us did, he was living in Boston and I was in New York about to embark on an eighteen-month tour with no word on whether he’d join me at any of the stops.

  When your relationship is ending, you try everything you can think of to keep it together. You both make promises that neither of you can keep. Words are said that can never be taken back. Emotions are worn on your sleeve and your partner sees your pain. Your wants and needs become the “be all that ends all”, but they only work if they’re met. When you want a family and are ready to settle down but have to repeatedly change your wedding date due to the demands of your record label, your partner withdraws. The phone calls become few and far between. You resort to texting and its one-word answers. In the end you give up, even if you don’t mean to.

  Most of the time, you don’t realize what’s going on around you until it’s too late. I should’ve seen the signs – they’re what make my songs so popular. I sing about true love, finding romance and experiencing heartbreak. I should’ve known. I was too naïve to think that if we made it through a break-up before we’d survive anything. Once my tour was over, we’d fix everything.

  It’s been a year since I’ve spoken to Ryan Stone. Twelve months since he called and said that things aren’t working and that we wanted different things in life. I wanted children, he didn’t. He wanted me not to tour during baseball season, I did. Three hundred and sixty-five days since he told me that he’ll always love me, but that he was staying in Boston and accepting the job of General Manager of the major league baseball team, the Boston Renegades.

  I glance into the mirror at Alex as she feeds her daughter. It’s hard not to be jealous of her, but I am. I could be her right now, but I chose to be alone. Cole wanted to get back together, to make a go of things, but I wasn’t in a good place in my life. I had just given up Ryan, for his own good, and needed to figure out a few things. A year with a therapist did that and while I was getting my head shrunk, Cole was falling in love with my best friend. Truth be told, I didn’t care. They fit together, but it’s hard not to be jealous when she’s holding the one thing I wanted Ryan and me to share and now never will.

  I never thought the age difference would play a factor, but it did. In some ways, Ryan is still growing up, and being tied down to a wife and kids isn’t where he is in life. It’s where I’m at though and my clock is ticking, even more so now that Hayden is here and on tour. Every day I get to see my goddaughter and as much as I love her, I want my own. I want to feel the unconditional love for a child that I created with a man that I love. I want to hold him, rock him to sleep and be the first thing he sees in the morning. My desire is much stronger now than it was a year ago and I know I can do this on my own, but I don’t want to.

  I’ve never, in the past nine years, stopped loving Ryan. To this day, I still wear my engagement ring. Maybe it’s because I’m not mentally healthy enough to accept that he’s gone or maybe I hope that he comes back. Neither answer is sufficient. I wear it because it reminds me of what I had and lost.

  Cole comes into view and leans over Alex’s shoulder. He gently touches Hayden and her little hand shoots out of her blanket, grabbing his finger. He laughs at his daughter all while Alex gazes lovingly at her husband, both oblivious that I’m in the room. Looking at their happy family unit only hits home how much I need a change in my life.

  I clear my throat. “Alex, how many days until the next show?” I ask without making eye contact for fear she’ll see what my eyes may tell her.

  “You have five days. Why, what’s up?”

  I stand and square my shoulders. “I’m going to head home and see my parents. I’ll meet you guys at the next stop, okay?” My voice is weak, and I can tell by her expression that she knows I’m up to something. I smile softly and walk toward my suitcase. She won’t question me with Cole in the room so if I pack quickly, I can be gone before the inquisition starts.

  “You okay, Hadley girl?”

  I nod, unable to answer Cole. He won’t pester me and for that I’m thankful. With my bag packed, I tell them goodbye and walk down the long corridor until I’m standing outside the venue. No one is expecting me to be outside, and I rather enjoy walking undetected with fans still trying to get out of the parking lot. I flag down a taxi and slide in the back, memories of me doing this so many years ago flashing before my eyes. I know I’m doing the right thing.

  “Airport, please.”

  My chair leans back as I stare through my floor-to-ceiling windows onto the field. It’s a practice day and from what I can see, no one is really taking it seriously. My watch indicates that practice has just started, reminding me to give the manager more leeway than my predecessor. I told myself when I took this job that I’m not going to be that guy, the “young, gung-ho fresh-out-of-college kid who’s been called in to do something with the team” guy. That’s not me. At least that’s not my intention. I want to win and
will do so at whatever cost without damaging the integrity of the team.

  I spin in my chair and face my desk. It’s clear of all the paperwork that cluttered it not weeks before. Now that the season is in full swing I can take a little reprieve and enjoy the sport I’ve grown to love so much. I eye my college diploma, which now hangs proudly on my wall. Going back to school was the smartest decision I’ve made during these past few years. I struggled, of course, but was able to take most of my classes online while still working for the Yankees’. Management encouraged my continuing education, but I don’t think they planned on me leaving for their rival.

  I started with the Renegades part way through last year. They were in last place and the former General Manager let the team go to shit. It was more like watching misfits play stickball than major league baseball. There was drinking in the clubhouse, escorts who loitered in the VIP section and a lot of marriages were crumbling.

  Mine crumbled long before I got here though. Not that I was married, but I was damn near close. I should’ve been at least three times, by all accounts, with as many dates that were set, but we never made it down the aisle. Hell, we never even made it to the tux shop or sent out invites. I supposed with the lack of finality, no one’s in a hurry to do anything. It’s easy to change the date when no one knows you’ve set one.

  My ex-fiancée is who every teenage boy dreams of falling in love with. When I met Hadley Carter, I was seventeen, lost and very impressionable. My home life sucked, I had exactly one friend and I was destined to work in the same mill that the Stone men before me had worked. Hadley opened my eyes to a whole new world and she also broke my heart. Our relationship, which was kept hidden, was a whirlwind of love, emotions and secrets. It was the secrets that came back to destroy us. Hadley is a major recording artist. Her concerts sell out within hours, her label loves her and she’s in high demand, so high that it cost us our relationship.

  It took four years until I saw her again in the flesh. One random night I was out with my friends and there she was, standing a few feet from me. That same night, we reconnected and I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.

  I knew that up until a year ago when I was offered the interim GM job with Boston, I jumped on it. We needed something different and I thought she would be happy. I wanted her to quit touring for a bit, set a wedding date and let us be married for a while. Turns out, my plan was not the same as her plan. She went on tour and I moved here.

  I thought she’d follow or at least move her belongings to my new condo, but she didn’t. After a while, you just stop trying. I know I did. I couldn’t find time to call her at midnight when her shows were over, and I didn’t want to wake her up by calling too early. Our schedules didn’t mesh. I got busy and so did she.

  Breaking up with the one you love is life changing. How I came to that decision, I’ll never know. Deep down, I knew Hadley would’ve never done it and more than likely pretended that everything was okay with us, but I couldn’t. My life was split in half. One part of me wanted to give up the life I was building before she came back and tour with her. I tried that, in the off-season, but it wasn’t the life for me. Back when we first met, I broke every rule ever set for me just to be with her. She showed me what it was like to have a glamorous life and for the longest time, I could see myself following her around. Sure, at seventeen, I didn’t know what I wanted, except for her. She was everything I wanted. When she broke up with me, my life took a different path. My parents weren’t going to pay for my college, and at the time, I wasn’t even living at home due to them finding out about my relationship with Hadley. My best friend, Dylan, and I moved to New York City. I took every business class I could at a community college while working a job to help keep Dylan and me in an apartment. Everything paid off, and I landed a dream job with the Yankees. Then Hadley walked back into my life. It was happenstance. We were both in the right place at the time right time. I never looked back after that night. Until now.

  The other part of me wanted Hadley to stop performing, not stop singing. Sadly for me, those go hand in hand. I wanted us to have time to build a life together without touring being in the way. We lived by her calendar and while I have a busy schedule, mine at least afforded us vacation time.

  For the first year, she didn’t tour and didn’t release anything new. Life was perfect. We spent our first Christmas in Cancun surrounded by pristine beaches and the warm sun. It wasn’t until we’d been together for two and half years did our schedules really start to impact our lives. We both worked long hours, we both traveled and we both forgot about each other. Hadley thought that we should have a child, said it would bring us closer and we’d be forced to make changes to our work schedules. I said no. I told her that I wasn’t ready and that a baby shouldn’t be used as a pawn for us to make changes.

  Being offered the job in Boston was eye opening. Hadley doesn’t have to live in New York so I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I thought we’d move, maybe buy a house and really start making plans. When I first pitched the idea to her, she seemed to be on board, but that quickly changed when she told me she was going on an eighteen-month tour and wanted me to quit and go with her. When I told her no, she blew it off saying she wouldn’t be gone the entire time and would have a month off between her international and US dates, together with some long weekends. I didn’t know if that was her way of saying everything would be okay or not. It wasn’t for me. I still expected her to move with me to Boston. If you’re about to spend the next year and half on the road, what’s it matter where your physical address is?

  It’s not in Boston, which was evident when I started showing her condos to rent. She told me she wanted to stay in New York because of work. Her studio, manager and label were there and it was convenient. For the first time since I was seventeen, I cried. I wanted her with me. I needed her with me. Even having her clothes or stupid high-heels in our bedroom was better than anything.

  Eventually, I made the conscious decision to move. If she wasn’t going to be home there was no need for me to stay. She promised everything would be fine. It was just a tour and once it was over, we’d be back together. Except life doesn’t work like that and now we’re not together.

  When we broke up, I expected to find our demise splashed all over Page Six, but it wasn’t. Her publicist never released a statement. I don’t know if that was for my benefit or hers. When I see her in magazines and on television, because I have to torture myself, she still wears the ring I put on her finger so many years ago. Why she still does, I’ll never know, nor will I find out. It’s been a year since we’ve spoken, since she begged me not to do this to us. I had to. I had to make the best decision for me.

  It’s hard to make a life-altering decision, but when I think about it, each conscious decision you make is life altering. Whether you make a change in your daily routine, leave your house five minutes late or start dating the boss’ daughter, your life has changed.

  Six months ago, I took a step that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to take and started seeing Jessica Robertson, daughter of Mitch Robinson, owner of the Boston Renegades. She pursued me, with her father’s blessing, and she knows everything about Hadley and me. The difference in my relationship with Jessica is that we date. We go out and talk, see movies and let our relationship progress naturally. With Hadley, everything happened so fast – most of it in secret – and we never really had the chance to be a normal couple.

  Dating Jessica is easy. She grew up with her father not being at home during the season. She loves baseball and doesn’t mind being at the stadium. To her, a baseball life is second nature and that fits in with who I am right now.

  Most importantly, she knows I’m still in love with Hadley.

  Standing outside the grand ballpark, it hits me like a ton of bricks that I never visited Ryan at work. I don’t know why. I guess I didn’t need to. Living in the same city, I never found the urge to surprise him at work. Looking back now, I see that was a mistake
on my part. I’ve heard so many romantic stories about spur-of-the-moment lunches or walks in the park. Maybe he was right in breaking up with me. I can’t remember if I actually made time for “us” outside of living together.

  As soon as I step inside the concourse, my heart races and my palms start to sweat. I’m not a nervous person by nature, but knowing that I’m about to see Ryan for the first time in a year has me on edge. As many times as I’ve been in stadiums, I’ve never been on the concourse. I’ve never been to a major sporting event or another concert as a fan. In this moment, I feel as if I’ve missed out on an important American pastime. There are food vendors of every food imaginable lining both sides. Every few openings are spots where you can buy game gear. Ryan’s closet was full of gear and I often teased him that he had nothing fancy except for a tuxedo. My heels tap loudly against the concrete floor as I traverse down the hall looking for a sign that will tell me how to find his office. This is something I should’ve done with Ryan when he first started working here. I should’ve made the time to check out his office and meet his co-workers, but I didn’t. The more I think about my actions during the break-up, the more I’m convinced that I’m shallow and unworthy of his love. I know deep down that isn’t true, but walking these halls while I look for his office sure makes me feel that way.

  “Can I help you?”

  I turn to see an older man behind me. He’s dressed in a baseball uniform and it dawns on me that today might be a game day. I never stopped to check. Ryan may be too busy to talk to me. He may suggest I come back at a different time, knowing that my schedule is tight and that flexibility is not my best friend. The man stares at me. His eyes aren’t roaming around my body in a perverted sense, but he knows that I don’t belong here. I smile, hoping to ease his worries. I have no doubt the players get all kinds of stalkers and people trying to break into the locker room. I’m only trying to find their boss.

 

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