by Keren Hughes
“Brent,” she says, struggling against Julia’s hold, her arms outstretched to me.
I take her and Julia smiles. I’ve never thought about whether I want kids of my own, but being Jessa’s godfather is one of the best things about my life. She’s so cute and sweet and loving.
Her daddy dotes on her and hates it when we have to go on tour and have to leave the girls behind. Jessa’s so young that she and Julia can come with us, and when they do, the three of them stay in a hotel rather than cramped up with us on the tour bus.
Evan knows that when she’s old enough to start school that they’ll have to stay home more, and he’ll miss them when we’re gone.
We’re meant to have a big tour of the US coming up; it’s still in the planning stages. But now Julia’s pregnant again, I’m not so sure Evan will want to go. The baby will still only be young, and like with Jessa, he won’t leave before he’s at least experienced all the new baby’s firsts: teeth, words, crawling, walking, all that jazz.
“Higher,” Jessa says with a toothy grin.
I twirl her around in the air, making her squeal.
“Higher.”
I hold her higher as I spin.
I’m not crazy. I spin slowly so as not to cause myself to get dizzy and drop her. She’s far too precious, and Evan would kick my ass. I don’t want to have to think about whether or not I could take him in a fight. But I’d probably let him beat seven bells out of me because if I’d hurt his daughter, I’d deserve it.
“Jessa, baby, time to come and eat,” Julia calls.
“But, Mummy,” she whines as I come to a stop.
“No, little lady, you will come and eat. Then you can play with Uncle Brent later.”
“Okaaay.” She draws the word out and pouts.
I hold her hand as we walk over to the table and Julia takes her and places her on the booster seat Evan set up.
Sitting at the table, I watch as Evan and Julia interact, feeling a pang of jealousy hit me in the chest as they look at each other with such love evident on their faces.
Honestly, I never thought any of us would settle down. But Evan had been in love with Julia since forever. They didn’t get together until about ten years ago, but when they finally did, it was the kind of love that films and books are written about.
They say you go through a honeymoon phase, but I guess their phase is longer than others. From what I’ve seen, they are sickeningly in love. But from what Evan said when we left the diner, it got rough a few years ago when they started trying to get pregnant. However, they don’t look any different to me now than they did all those years ago.
Seeing how much they love each other and everything they’ve battled through, only to come out the other side stronger for it, makes me think about Caleigh.
I’ve been trying not to, but I can’t help it. I fell in love with her before I knew what was happening. I didn’t mean to, but it wasn’t as though what we had was planned. I didn’t go looking for anything, not even a girl to hook up with for a while. But then I met a pink-haired goddess who changed my mind, changed my heart, and left an imprint on my soul. Why the hell did I have to fuck it up?
***
It’s been a week since the barbecue at Evan’s and we’re gathered in the studio to record more songs for the album. I’ve been tinkering with a song of my own, but it isn’t perfect. Far from it.
Loving you made me a better man,
Why did I ruin what we had?
You were my everything,
A reason for my heart to beat,
But now I’m broken,
I had to admit defeat.
It’s hard to concentrate as I begin to play the opening chords of a song Evan wrote. All I can think of is the words tumbling around inside my own head, the myriad of emotions swirling inside me.
I did it all for love,
Something I knew nothing of,
Until the day I met you,
And you showed me the way.
But now I’m here without you,
Lost in a sea of despair.
I feel a twinge of sadness as Evan begins to sing words of the love he feels for Julia and how she is his world. He writes like no other man I’ve ever met. His ability to pour heart and soul into his lyrics makes me strive to write better.
Of course, we’ve all written our own fair share of songs over the years for the albums we’ve recorded, but we all know we pale in comparison to Evan. He has the mastery, the technique, the words, but more than that, he’s the one of us that truly knows what it is to love another person more than anything else. Asher and Jude are eternal bachelors, and they like it that way, want it that way. But me? I’ve not been able to write a song in so long, which is why I needed a break, and now that I have lyrics rattling around my head, they’re all about Caleigh Rae Flynn, the one that got away.
We wrap up two tracks at the studio before calling it quits for the day. We had to re-record due to me not knowing I was crying until it was too late. Evan’s words spoke directly to my heart and drew on every emotion I have raging inside me like a tsunami rushing to shore.
Gordon was pleased with the new tracks in the end, so it was all good. Now we’re one step closer to releasing the new album. But we’re also a step closer to the biggest decision of my life.
Chapter Fifteen
Caleigh
Rhiannon convinced me to bring Hardin out to Brookhaven and stay with her, her husband Lewis and their beautiful little girl, my goddaughter, Luna.
It’s been so nice getting away from work, and Hardin’s school is on another break, so it was perfect timing.
Before I left home, Deb told me that she’d overheard a conversation that wasn’t meant for her ears, something that made me want to scream and scratch out Damien’s eyeballs. Pathetic scumbag made crude remarks about me, and to think I’d considered him a friend as well as being my boss.
Deb had come in early that fateful day, only to overhear raised voices between Damien, “Rhett” and someone she couldn’t identify—Gordon.
Damien had made a comment about my “sweet little pussy” and how he’d piece me back together after Brent left. Why the hell he’d think that, I don’t know. He’s been my boss and my friend, but I’ve never looked at him in that way. I thought he’d never looked at me in that way either, until Deb told me everything she heard.
I’d been working alongside him for weeks without knowing what went down after I left. I didn’t want to know. All I needed to know was that Brent was gone.
Deb apologised for not telling me sooner, but she knew I was in pain over Brent leaving and taking my heart with him. She only decided to tell me because she’s watched as Damien has been overly nice to me.
I thought it was because he was being a friend, but it’s obvious that he had an ulterior motive. Deb didn’t want him taking advantage of me, but it’s not like he’s made a move on me in the last six weeks. He’s been acting normally, except for being overly friendly and helpful, which now I come to think about it is probably because he’s been waiting for the dust to settle before doing anything. Who knows, maybe he’ll try something when I get back from Brookhaven next week. If he does, I’ll quit my job and take him to a tribunal for sexual harassment. Okay, maybe I won’t, because I’m not one to make waves, but I’ll damn well quit if he doesn’t apologise for the comments he made. Part of me believes he only said those things to get under Brent’s skin, to hurt him for hurting me. But Deb said he sounded sincere—or as sincere as you can when talking about someone’s “sweet little pussy”.
God, just the thought of him saying that makes me feel sick. And goddamn angry.
Luna comes running up to me, squealing as Hardin chases her around the garden.
God, Rhiannon’s house is so beautiful, and the garden is so big. I could easily see myself and Hardin living somewhere like this one day.
I heard back about the job interview yesterday and they want me to start as soon as possible. It’ll mean more m
oney and a better chance at getting a mortgage on a decent sized place for Hardin to grow. Our house is okay for now, but a little on the snug side as Hardin gets older.
Rhiannon has been trying to convince me to move here to Brookhaven. She said that the schools are excellent, that Hardin would be happy here. It would be a wrench to leave his friends, but she said that it’s something to think about while he’s so young, because he could make friends easily here.
Thankfully, the job allows me to set up wherever I want, so it’s definitely something to consider.
“Hey, Mummy, which way did Luna go?” Hardin asks breathlessly.
“I can’t tell you that. That’s cheating.”
“But Mummy,” he whines.
“You’re playing hide and seek. I can’t tell you where she is, because then you wouldn’t be finding her yourself, and that’s not fair, is it baby?”
I ruffle his hair and he frowns at me, his brows furrowed, marring his handsome features.
“Okay, Mummy, I’ll play fair.”
“Good boy. Now go on, go find Luna before she gets fed up of waiting.”
He runs off in the wrong direction and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Sounds good on you, you know?” Rhiannon says as she sits beside me on the patio swing.
“What does?” I ask, confused.
“Laughter. Haven’t heard it much since you got here.”
“Oh,” I respond with a sigh. “I guess I haven’t had much to laugh about.”
Rhi knows what happened back home and she’s somewhat sympathetic, but she also says that I should have held onto Brent because a love like that doesn’t come around often. She’s right; it doesn’t. I was lucky to have had it with Angelo, but even luckier to have found it when I least expected it. But even if I forgave his lies—which in my heart, I already have—it’s the broken trust that hurts the most. That’s before you even get to the rest: the fame, the distance, the women on the road—do I believe that one? I believe he was probably a bit of a playboy, yeah. But do I think he slept with them without protection like Gordon insinuated? I don’t think so, because when we first met, he insisted on condoms, stocked up on them in fact. It was me that told him to stop using them because I was clean and because I trusted him—was that trust misplaced?
“What’s got your face all screwed up?” Rhi asks as she sips her wine.
“Nothing. Just thinking, I guess. Maybe a bit of wishful thinking.”
“Wishful thinking? About Brent, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“Honey, he loves you. I know I can only go off what you told me, but it honestly sounds like he loves you. He lied, yeah, but that was to protect his identity.”
“Do we really have to go over this again?”
“Sweetie, I know I’ve said all this before, but I’ll risk sounding like a broken record until it sinks in and you do something about it.”
I sigh and take a large gulp of my wine.
“Rhi, he hurt me. He really hurt me. Plus, he’s gone now. I have no way of contacting him even if I wanted to.”
“You don’t think he’s kept the same number in hopes of you calling?”
Sighing again, this time deeper, I look my best friend in the eye.
“I’ve wanted to try and call him, but I’ve chickened out so many times. I was the one who told him to leave. I know he had no choice anyway because of his manager, but I told him not to contact me again. He’s probably deleted my number by now. I’m probably nothing but a memory.”
“Pfft! Please don’t try and tell me that you believe that nonsense you’re spouting?”
“Nonsense?”
“I’m probably nothing but a memory,” she says, mimicking me. “Please, like you think that’s true. You don’t turn love off like a tap, Caleigh. It takes time and effort to put something like that to the back of your mind so much that it becomes a distant memory.”
“Well, he’s had six weeks. And you know what they say about how long it takes to get over a relationship—it takes the same length of time to get over it as the length of time you were together. Well, if that’s the case, he’s long over me by now. We only had a couple of weeks together, so…” I trail off with a shrug.
“Please, girl,” she says with a laugh. “You don’t really believe that bullshit, do you? It takes however long it takes, but it isn’t judged on how long you were together. More like on how much you meant to that person. And if you really meant that much to him, he’ll barely be able to keep his shit together right now. Just like you.”
“Oh, thanks,” I say in mock offence as I nudge her elbow, causing her to spill a little wine.
“Hey, careful. I like my wine in my glass or in my mouth, not wasted on the floor.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Less of the sarcasm, young lady.”
“Why? It’s the language I’m most fluent in.”
“Yeah, if you don’t count your other language: bullshit.”
We both crack up laughing, and I have to admit, it feels good to really laugh about something, even if it is only something little.
“Mummy, I fell over and hurt my knee,” Hardin says as he limps over to me.
“Oh, baby, come here. Let Mama take a look.”
He climbs up onto my lap and I look at his grazed knee.
“I’ll go and get the first aid kit,” Rhi says before disappearing inside.
“How did you do this, baby?”
“We were on the tyre swing and Luna pushed it hard, then I fell off.”
“Aw, baby, come here.”
I wrap my arms around him, and he does the same, squeezing me tightly.
“She didn’t mean to push so hard, Mummy.”
“I’m sure she didn’t, baby.”
Luna comes running over with Hardin’s glasses in her hand.
“Here, Hardin. I found these on the floor,” she says as she hands them to him.
“Thanks, Luna.”
“I’m sorry I pushed you too hard.”
“It’s okay. Auntie Rhi went to get the first aid kit.”
“Yeah, we’ll put a plaster on that, and you’ll be fine,’ Rhi says as she comes back out onto the patio.
She opens the first aid kit and goes about cleaning Hardin’s knee and patching him up.
***
It’s been a nice day, except for Hardin getting hurt. But he wasn’t bothered by it after Rhiannon patched him up. He went back to playing with Luna, and then they ate their tea and played inside for a while before having a bath and going to bed.
They were both so dirty from playing outside that I’m almost certain it was more mud than water in the bath after they’d finished.
“So, have you thought any more about calling a certain someone?” Rhiannon asks as we relax in the living room.
“Don’t even go there, Rhi.”
“I’m sorry for loving my best friend and wanting her to be happy,” she says with a huff.
“Leave the poor woman be, Rhi, baby,” Lewis chimes in.
He’s not one for talking about feelings and shit, so when it comes to me pouring my heart out, he normally leaves us to it. But he knows Rhiannon has been getting on my back since I got here.
“I’ll leave her alone when she does the right thing and follows her heart instead of her head.”
“You do know that the heart doesn’t think, right?” I ask. “It’s completely illogical to think that one can follow their heart instead of their head, when it’s their head that does all the thinking.”
“You have to be so bloody stubborn and obtuse, don’t you, woman?” Rhiannon crosses her arms and pouts at me like a child.
“I’m merely pointing out a fact.”
“Well if you want to put it like that, then, I will get off your back when you wrap your mind around the facts.”
“And what facts would those be, Rhi?”
“That you love him, and he loves you. That you should pick up the damn phone instea
d of being a coward, thinking he’s forgotten you. One of you has to reach out to the other, and if it’s not him for some reason, then you need to do it. Everyone deserves a second chance. Don’t you owe it to yourself to find out if he’s hurting too? To find out if you can put it behind you and move forward, together?”
“If I owe anyone anything, it’s his manager. I owe him a slap in the face for calling me a whore.”
“Oh, go ahead, ignore the question if you like. But you know I’m right. I know he lied to you, Caleigh, and I know he hurt you. He’s flawed, but that’s because he’s human. You’ve seen the real him, and no, I don’t mean as a liar. I mean as someone who is imperfect. Which, after all, is the one trait every human being has in common. We are all flawed in some way, honey. I am, Lewis is, you are.”
Is she right? He’s not perfect, but then nobody is. He’s imperfect, like anyone else on the planet.
“I-I don’t know, Rhi. I have Hardin to think of too. I have to protect him.”
“Honey, what do you have to protect him from? It’s not like Hardin knows any of this. He’s blissfully oblivious. What you really mean is that you are worried about protecting your heart. Angelo was your first real love and he left you—not by choice, I know—and now Brent is the first person you’ve allowed yourself to feel something for since all that. That means that it hurts that much more, because you actually felt … feel something for the man.”
I wish this woman would shut up. I wish she’d stop making sense. I want to wallow in self-pity. Aren’t I allowed to do that?
“Without trust, there is no love, Rhi.”
I take a large gulp of my wine and blink back unshed tears. All this talk of Brent just makes me miss him so much more.
“But honey, trust is earned, not given. You could allow him the chance to earn your trust again. I’m not saying you should marry the guy. Not yet, anyway. I’m just saying that you could give him a second chance, and if he blows it, then he doesn’t deserve you. But if you ask me, although he’s not perfect, he is perfect for you.”
“So, he’s perfectly imperfect? Is that what you’re trying to say?”