by Haley Travis
Carrie’s eyes flew wide open. "Damn. It would've been so easy for him to ask his lawyer to send a very official letter. Kim was so flighty that scaring the pants off of her would be a breeze."
"Would he have bothered?" I asked.
Her hand smacked my arm as if she was swatting a fly. "Are you mental? That boy would do anything for you. From everything I saw on the show, and everything you've told me since, he wants to protect you from the big bad world."
"Sometimes it comes across like he wants to control me. Like he wants to keep me in the little box labeled, ‘the girl I used to know’."
"You are aware that men can be trained, right?" Carrie asked quite seriously. “If you need him to change something, you probably only have to ask. He would much rather make a few adjustments then lose you entirely. Plus, he probably wants to be your dream guy."
"I don't even know if there is such a thing," I said softly.
"When you close your eyes at night and imagine a man crawling into bed with you, who is it?" Carrie giggled. "I already know your answer from the way you’re blushing."
"Shut up." I tried to sound serious, but I was smiling too hard. "I want him. I do. It's just…"
"Really fucking hard?" suggested Carrie. "Yes. It will be. Relationships are wonderful and horrible and messy and embarrassing and demented."
"Gee, that sounds like a blast. Sign me up." I rolled my eyes.
"Remember when we cleaned my closet? We had to pull out everything and make a horrific mess, but several hours later when we were done, everything was brilliant and perfect. That's a relationship. It takes a while for things to get straightened out, and you have to dig around to find things that match, things that need fixing, and things that have to be let go."
I stared at her, my mouth falling open. "Oh my God. You should write a book about this stuff."
She waved her wine glass at me. "Nobody wants relationship advice from a single twenty-six-year-old who's only had two serious relationships. When I am married with a couple of kids and a second cat, maybe I can start calling myself an expert then."
"On a much more important note," I said, "What did you name the new kitten?"
"Empress Von Floofington the Mighty, of the United Force of Kitty Cats, Head of the Apartment, Defender of the Cute.”
I shot her a flat, blank stare before bursting out laughing.
“But I just call her Floof."
I nodded. “Yes, that’s likely for the best.”
As always, the wine went down smoothly, taking the edge off my heartache for a few hours. I was going to think everything through again with fresh eyes, but that would have to wait until tomorrow.
Chapter Twenty Four ~ Nate
* Leather Pouch *
Looking around the slightly derelict but technically solid warehouse space, I knew it was our new home. “Lora, you said that your brother double checked the power?"
"Absolutely," she said. "Each wall is on its own circuit, so as long as we don't plug everything into one side, we’re golden."
"And it's clean enough for your delicate female tastes?" I smirked.
"Please," she snorted. "I've been in bands where I've had to sleep in the backseat of a car with two other guys after eating bean salad. This place is a damn luxury." She took a long look around the room again. "But I will be scrubbing the bathroom and sweeping the floor before we move in our gear."
"All right then. I'll tell Dave and have him send the check. Thanks for finding this place."
"Being helpful is what wonderful bass playing chicks are for," she grinned.
We turned out the lights, and she locked the door. As we walked toward the streetcar stop, I realized that I didn't want to go back to my new mostly empty apartment yet. It was just so depressing. Everything always looked sort of dirty and sad when it was packed in boxes.
"Hey, do you want to grab a drink?" I asked.
"I should really get some sleep," she said. "We've been pulling some long hours lately." Then she cocked her head and looked at me carefully. "Unless you need the company. Just speak up."
I shook my head. "No, I should probably go unpack."
"Have you called her?" She didn't even have to specify who she meant.
"No. It's been two weeks, and she hasn't even sent me a text."
"You should make the first move, dumb ass," she said, giving me a playful smack on the bicep. "You're both being terrified little bitches."
"Damn, girl, how do you really feel?" I snickered.
"It's good to see you laugh a bit, at least," she said, leaning out into the street to see if the streetcar was coming. "Have you even told her that you had that website taken down?"
"No. She didn't want me to interfere."
"But you did anyway."
I shrugged, my shoulders feeling like they had weights attached to them. "I couldn't let it spread farther. Dave has done a bit of damage control as well, and spread the word that I won't be doing any media if they discuss that whole situation."
"That's probably for the best. But don't you think that Trisha has a right to know?"
"I guess so. But she might be angry with me."
"Then let her be angry," Lora said. "The poor girl just had a whole bunch of weird pressure dumped on her, from her job, and the media, and you. She's probably in a tailspin. I know she's trying to be less timid, but that's a lot for any girl to handle. Don't you think?"
"You're probably right." I sighed. “We need closure.”
Lora peered down the street. "The westbound is coming first. I win." She threw her arms around me in a quick hug, then ran across the street, waving.
I watched her get onto the streetcar, then started walking toward downtown. After a few blocks, it felt like the exercise and fresh air had started to clear my head.
My entire life had been a whirlwind of cranking out songs, preparing to record, moving to Toronto, and securing that rehearsal space. I would finally have a couple of days to breathe, and there was only one person I wanted to talk to.
Pulling out my phone, I sent Trisha a text.
Me: Hi. I just want to know if you’re alright. May I phone you?
My feet continued dragging my body east, and I was surprised to hear my phone beep so quickly.
Trisha: Sure. Or you could drop by. I need to go for a walk.
Me: That would be great. I’ll meet you anywhere.
My heart leapt into my throat. I hadn't been certain that she would respond at all, much less say that I could see her.
She sent me her address, and was waiting out front when I got there. Her beautiful hazel eyes made me melt as she looked up at me. The need to hug her was almost overwhelming.
“Hi,” I said. My voice usually sounded much more confident. “How have you been?”
Trisha shrugged, tilting her head as she led me back to the sidewalk, and down the street. “It’s been weird, but okay.”
"Weird, definitely," I nodded. I followed her to the left, down an even quieter street.
Taking a breath, I knew I had to get the worst out of the way. "I didn't tell you immediately, because we weren't really speaking. But Dave had some lawyers yank Kim's site down. They took it completely off-line, or something. I didn't understand the details, but she was using other people's content without permission and making unsubstantiated claims, or whatever. So she's totally shut down.”
Trisha nodded. "I saw that the site was gone. I wondered if you had something to do with it."
"Actually, I just asked Dave to look into it, and he took over. I think he was angry about the invasion of privacy, but really pissed off that you were upset." I gave her a sideways glance. "Dave really likes you."
She shrugged. "Maybe I'm infinitely likable."
I loved that she was becoming sassier.
Trisha led us into a park, and we settled on a bench surrounded by flowering bushes. "This is an excellent hiding spot,” I observed.
"I like to come here and read sometimes," she said.
“I'd like to have a backyard with a reading nook someday, but until then, this will do."
"I hope that you get that someday." I paused, trying to figure out what I needed to say. "Trisha, I just want you to be happy. If that's not with me, that's okay. I know that I'm one of those big energy people that gets lost in the moment, and that's hard for you. I sort of thought that you would come around, but now I realize I need to control myself more than trying to control others. Even if it's well-intended."
She looked a bit surprised, nodding.
"I think I still have a lot of growing to do," I confessed. "You're the only relationship I've ever had, so obviously I don't know much about the process. I've also always been surrounded by people – friends, musicians, my band, my manager, and now my new band. In some ways, I think I need to find some quiet spaces like you do."
"That would probably be good for you," she said softly.
"You've taught me so much, Trisha. You seem to be doing really well for yourself. You've escaped your family, have your own place, and have a great job. It sounds like they really value you there, and that's amazing."
"Thank you,” she whispered.
"I can let you go now," I said quietly. It was so hard not to reach out to hold her hand. "I want you to be happy. I need to know that you're having a good life. That's all I've ever wanted for you. Now that I know that you're okay, and you're able to take care of yourself, I can let you go."
Both her hands and bottom lip were shaking, and I wasn't sure if she was touched or relieved.
"I'd like to think that if we go our separate ways, maybe we could be friends someday. Grab a coffee now and then."
"I'd definitely like to see your new band," she whispered.
"Absolutely," I tried to smile. “And I'll do my best to arrange the set so there are as few love songs as possible." She smiled, and once again it almost caused me physical pain not to reach for her.
Her hand darted out to touch my necklace, her thumb circling the guitar pick. Then she touched the leather pouch. "I've been meaning to ask you what's in here,” she said.
Funny how I’d never been nervous when I walked out on stage to bare my soul for thousands, but my hands trembled as I opened the little charm bag.
I placed the contents one by one in her upturned palm. There was a tiny photo of us together, and she immediately smiled. “I remember that photo,” she said softly. “That was taken in the park by the lake.”
“Yeah, and that was the same day we found those matching pink stones.” I pulled out a rock the size of a pea. I knew that she wouldn’t still have the matching one, but could see that she remembered.
Then I pulled out a little silver and amethyst ring, setting it in her hand.
“I’d like you to keep that. I don’t expect you to wear it,” I said quickly. “But I’d like you to have it as a friendship ring. Stick it in a drawer, or something.”
“You’ve… You had this on you?” Her voice was strained, her hands fluttering as she held the silver and violet circle in her palm.
I shrugged, trying to look casual and hold on for just a few more minutes. The need to completely fall apart was weighing on me, but I couldn’t do that to her.
“Yeah. You’ve always been my good luck charm, Trisha. I kept that ring over my heart to bring you to me someday. So you should have it back now that things are over.”
I couldn’t meet her eyes. I couldn’t speak anymore. I stood up, realizing there wasn’t any more to say. Turning quickly, my feet thudded heavily as I slowly walked away.
Her choked little sob felt like it stabbed my heart. I kept walking. A louder noise nearly tore me in two. Swallowing hard and forcing myself not to blink, I kept walking.
The tortured wail came from behind me, freezing me in my tracks. “Wait.”
Chapter Twenty Five ~ Trisha
* All I Had Of You *
My guts took over, kicking my brain out of the way. I was on my feet before I realized I’d moved.
“I need you,” I choked. I didn’t mean to say it. I tried to stay quiet. Then I blurted, “I love you but I’m petrified.”
Nate rushed to me, sitting me back down and cautiously taking my hand. “Talk to me. Slow is fine.”
He understood me. Even when he was pushy and didn’t know when to let things go and had been keeping me on an unattainable pedestal, he was kind to me. He was… mine.
“Knowing that you could let me go means that you would let me go if I was bad for you. Right? You wouldn’t stay with me out of some feeling of obligation?”
“I wouldn’t want us to be together if we weren’t good for each other, no,” he said softly.
“I can’t…” Collapsing into tears, Nate grabbed me, clutching me to his chest.
“Shh, I’ve got you, baby. Take your time.” He held me for a moment, stroking my back.
Then he shifted so that there was a little space between us, holding my hands as he gave me a nod. We took a slow breath together, timed perfectly. Instantly I calmed down a bit.
I grabbed a tissue from my purse, trying not to dissolve into a total mess, but I knew he didn’t care. A moment later, I was able to drag in enough air to speak.
Wiping my eyes again, I sounded as fragile as I felt. “I can’t be your dream girl. Anybody’s dream girl. It’s like being held captive by what someone thinks I should be and I’ll second guess every single thing I do and my life will be hell.”
Nate just held my hand, reaching around with the other so his palm was circling my lower back.
I spoke slowly. “If I know that you could let me go… then maybe we could also take a step back? Starting out a relationship as if it’s the ultimate thing on earth is too much. Intimidating. I can’t live up to whatever you might have been thinking for so long.”
“Okay. We could slow down,” he murmured.
“I know it’s impossible, but what if we started at the very beginning?”
Nate’s lips were quivering as if he were afraid to even breathe. “What exactly do you mean?”
“You looked for me for so long, and now it’s like if either of us messes up, we’d have that hanging over us. That we ruined this mystical thing that was meant to be. Can we pretend that we met in a bar last week and just date?”
“What would you want to do that would be different?” He straightened me up so that he could look into my eyes. He looked concerned, but so hopeful.
“We both put our careers first for now. We date when it’s convenient, and text when we’re apart. We have to get to know the real, true versions of ourselves where we are now.”
“Does that mean you want to try? You’ll give me another chance?”
Swallowing hard, I nodded. “Yes.”
“Thank you, baby,” he murmured, already kissing me through my salty tears. “I’m so sorry. I’ll try harder to separate what I’ve been dreaming of and what’s real.”
“I’ll try to be more outgoing.”
“I’ll try to be less controlling.”
“I’ll try to lower my guard and let you in more,” I whispered as his lips skimmed along my damp cheekbone to nuzzle my ear.
“I’ll write a ton of songs about topics that aren’t you,” he breathed.
My fingers gripped the back of his hair. “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
I had no idea how long we held each other, just breathing. Settling down.
Finally he murmured, “I moved to Toronto. Lora and I just agreed on our rehearsal space. I’m not too far from here, but I swear I won’t drop in without calling. Okay?”
I nodded against his chest. He smelled so good, tweaking every memory of him holding me, loving me.
His thick arms squeezed me for a second, then he helped me stand up. “It’s getting chilly. Let me walk you home.”
Leading him down the street, I felt cautiously optimistic. It was as if we’d hit the reset button, and could start fresh. We’d cleared the cache. Backed everything up a
nd made more space to operate. This felt logical.
It was absolutely lovely just walking slowly, holding his hand. Somehow, I knew now that this was it. We should go slow, but I felt secure that things were likely going to work this time.
When we got to my building, Nate leaned in to give me a kiss goodbye.
