by R. C. Martin
Instead, I shove it all aside, abandoning it to be dealt with later. Later being one o’clock this afternoon. For now, it’s only eight-thirty, and I have a class to prepare for.
Yet, try as I might, I cannot un-hear his voice wrapping around my name.
Millicent, he called me.
There’s only one person—one man—who’s allowed to call me that. Only one voice that makes it sound beautiful. I could care less who gave me the name, it’s mine, and it is to only to be spoken in love. There’s a reason my mother could never speak the name—why she refused. And I don’t know the man who just left, but I’m certain he doesn’t love me. There is, however, one man who does—one man whose voice makes my name sound like a song.
Sage stole my heart by simply speaking my name, and it belongs to him—I belong to him forevermore.
WHEN I PULL INTO the driveway, I run my tongue along my lip. I still taste like Millie—the remnants of her arousal sucked from my fingers tormenting me. My dick jerks and I free a heavy sigh. I’m such a pussy for that pussy.
Shaking my head at myself, I step out of my car. I’m surprised when I see Alex sitting inside of hers, parked on the side of the street in front of the house. It’s still pretty early, a little after eight a.m., and I’m sure some of the guys are still sleeping—but surely she could have snagged someone’s attention to get inside and out of the cold. Not to mention, we’ve still got a couple of hours before we’re supposed to meet for practice, so I’m not sure why she’s here so early.
When she doesn’t even look up to notice me staring at her, I make my way toward her. That’s when I notice her car is packed full of her shit, and she’s not just sitting in the front seat of her car—she’s sitting in the front seat of her car crying.
Shit.
I walk around to her door and open it without prompting. She gasps, looking up at me with her dark, red-rimmed eyes, her cheeks soaked with tears. I don’t say a word as I hold out my hand, silently beckoning her to come with me. She comes without question, placing her hand in mine and following me inside of the house. I lead her to the couch and then hold up a finger, signaling for her to wait. I don’t know what’s going on, but it isn’t good—and since whatever is wrong has brought her here, I decide she needs all of us.
I head upstairs first, pounding on JJ’s door before I call out, “You decent?”
“Yeah,” he grumbles. I open the door and find him in bed with Violet, both of them propped up on their elbows, their sleepy gazes now trained on me.
“We’ve got tears downstairs. Something’s up with Alex. Band meeting. Wake Knox, will you?”
They both offer me a nod before they start to get out of bed, and I hurry for the basement to rouse Derrick and Maddox. Five minutes later, we’re all in the living room—most of us half dressed, all of us with bed head. That is, everyone except for Alex.
Derrick sits beside her, and she immediately rests her head on his shoulder. Maddox takes the spot on her other side, resting his forearms against his knees as he looks back and her and says, “Lay it on us, church mouse. What’s going on?”
“Is this about Adrian?” Derrick asks.
“No,” she sniffs, shaking her head.
“Whatever it is, you can tell us,” Violet says encouragingly. She sits directly in front of Alex on the coffee table. Knox sits down on the corner, running his fingers through his hair before he speaks.
“Like a Band-Aid, Alex—let her rip.”
“When we got back from tour, I moved out of my apartment. It was campus housing and—even though I still managed to pass most of my classes last semester in spite of being on the road, I knew I was going to have to take this next semester off. I told my parents. It wasn’t a secret. I was going to stay with them. Longmont isn’t that far from here, and I didn’t mind making the drive most days. Then last night—my parents told me I couldn’t stay.”
“Wait—what? Why?” Maddox asks, scrunching his brow.
“They said that if I was adult enough to make life altering decisions—like dropping out of college with only one semester left—then I was adult enough to figure out a place to stay that wasn’t under their roof. They said that they didn’t care if I wasn’t in school, that it was my life and I could do with it as I pleased, but that they weren’t going to hold my hand while I tried to figure it out.”
“So they just kicked you out?” I ask, still trying to process all that I’m hearing.
“They gave me a week, but we got in a big fight about it, which only made it worse.” She sits up straight, her face growing angry as she says, “I just don’t get them! They told me that they were proud of me before the tour—that they were happy to see me going after what I wanted. Then the second this band became my life, the moment they realized that I love being here more than going through the motions of my old, ordinary life, they freaked. All of a sudden, they thought I wasn’t thinking things through and I was acting impulsively.”
I cough out a humorless laugh and she looks at me in surprise.
“I get it, Zip. I’ve been there. Trust me, what your parents said to you, I’ve heard it all.”
“He’s not shitting you,” says Knox with a nod. “I’ve witnessed it. Not all of us have parents who are brave enough to support our choices—brave enough to trust what it is that we’re doing.”
“For some of us, our parents aren’t a factor at all,” Derrick murmurs. We all fall silent and he shakes his head before he continues. “What I mean to say is, we all get push back. It doesn’t look the same in all of our lives, but it’s there. It doesn’t matter, though. We don’t succumb to the bullshit. We’re in this together; we know what we’re about, we know what it takes to succeed, and we’re willing to stick it out no matter what. We make it or we don’t, but we aren’t going down without a fight. So shake it off, Ali. You’ve got us. We’re out to prove them all wrong.”
“And don’t worry about someplace to stay,” pipes in JJ. “We’ve got two couches right here. It’s not glamourous, but you’re welcome to stay.”
“Really?” she asks, sounding relieved.
“The fuck? What’d you think we’d say?” asks Maddox, patting her on the back.
She laughs, wiping away her tears with a shrug.
“If you can handle us for six weeks on a tour bus, I think you can survive around here,” I tell her with a grin.
“Thanks, guys.”
“And thank fuck that’s over,” says Knox with a big sigh. “Meeting adjourned. Now I’m hungry. Let’s grub.”
I DON’T REMEMBER a second of my morning classes. All I know is that I somehow managed to get through them. Now that they’re behind me, I hope that I won’t have too much damage control to handle on Wednesday when I see my students again.
My stomach growls, but I’m not sure why. I have absolutely no appetite, my nerves and apprehension serving as my fodder. As I continue to pace back and forth behind my desk, I check the time. Again. It’s probably only been thirty seconds since the last time that I looked. It’s three minutes after the top of the hour, which makes him three minutes late. I make up my mind that he gets seven more before I bolt.
Just then, a knock sounds at my door. I halt all movement, my eyes connecting with his as he fills my doorway. I’m not sure what it is about him—maybe just the fact that he’s alive and well and here, after twenty years of simply not existing in my life—whatever the case may be, I find myself falling speechless at the sight of him all over again.
“May I come in?”
I nod and he steps inside. As soon as he crosses the threshold, I see movement behind him. My eyes flicker into the hallway and I spot Lindsey. She doesn’t say a word, but merely nods at me, as if trying to communicate that she’s here for me should I need her. Before I can offer her so much as a blink in response, Christopher closes the door behind him.
He fidgets with his leather gloves, just like before, and I wonder what the act means. When he sees that I’ve noticed, he shoves
his hands into his coat pockets before he says, “I understand that my being here is probably somewhat of a shock—”
“Do you?” I ask, finding my voice, suddenly bothered that he thinks he knows anything about what I may or may not be feeling. “Do you understand what it’s like to come to work, as if it were an ordinary day, only to have not one but two encounters with your father, whom you haven’t seen or heard from in over twenty years? Do you understand that?”
“It was never my original intention to stay away from you this long, Millie.”
I open my mouth to speak and find that I have no idea what to say. I’m nowhere near mentally prepared for this conversation. I was never under the impression that this day would come—the day when I could stand in front of the man who left me as a child, abandoning me in the hands of a woman who refused to love me because of his decision to leave. For so long, I dreamed of the day when he would come back to me. For so long, I held onto the idea of him—the hope of a future with him, until time shattered my hope and crushed my dream into nothing.
It hurt too much to even resent him. Instead, I thought nothing of him. I let him go completely. I didn’t wonder about what I would say if I was ever given the chance, because I didn’t think that a day like today would come. I certainly wasn’t going to go searching for such an opportunity, either. Life with one difficult parent had been hard enough to endure. I saw no point in looking to add to my troubles.
“Perhaps this would be easier if we both sat?” he suggests, motioning to the two chairs placed in front of my desk. I ignore his invitation but take his advice, occupying my own chair. He nods, as if he understands something, and then shrugs out of his coat before taking a seat himself.
“I don’t understand why you’re here—how you’re here,” I murmur in an attempt to start solving the mystery of his presence.
“I read about Natalya’s death in the paper. I’m sorry for your loss, Millie, I truly am.”
I knit my eyebrows together, confused by his words—bewildered by his condolences.
“I decided to take a chance and searched for you on the internet. It didn’t take me long to find you.”
“It—it didn’t take you long to find me?” I stumble over my words. “Oh, my god, you’re joking, right?” I ask, my lungs shrinking again. I try my best to draw in a deep breath, but my chest aches and I can’t manage more than my shallow inhalations. “My mother dies and you decide to search for me? After twenty years? Why? Did you think I needed looking after? Because I don’t.”
“Millicent—”
“Don’t call me—”
“I apologize,” he mutters, his feathers obviously ruffled. “But you need to know this isn’t the first time I’ve tried to make contact with you.”
“It isn’t?” I whisper, my fight instantly evaporating at his confession.
He takes a deep breath, relaxing the features of his face before he begins speaking. “Four years after your mother and I split, I remarried. Her name is Gretchen. She didn’t know about you at first. It’s not something I’m proud of, but it’s the truth.”
I try to school the features of my face to express a state of indifference, but I’m not sure how successful I am. The more he speaks, the more grateful I am that I didn’t spend years painting a picture of him. If I had, I would have been more disappointed than I already am at hearing that he didn’t just leave me, he acted as if I didn’t even exist!
“What happened? You grew a conscious?”
“Your mother happened,” he answers. “After I left, she spent years trying her best to keep tabs on me. Just when I thought I was rid of her, there she was. She stopped tracking me after she found out about Gretchen, but not until after Gretchen learned about the two of you. It wasn’t easy news for her to swallow, but Gretchen is a forgiving woman. It was she who insisted I try rekindling a relationship with you. However, your mother wouldn’t hear of it.”
I stand abruptly, suddenly unable to sit still. This is all so much so fast—I can hardly wrap my head around it.
“You—you wanted me?”
“Millie, my leaving was never about you.”
At his words, my anger flares. “You left me to get away from her?”
“You knew the woman,” he says, scowling in frustration, as if his reasons should be self-explanatory. “How could you possibly blame me?”
My eyes burn with tears I wish not to cry as I argue, “You knew the woman and you left me with her!”
He draws in another deep breath, relaxing his shoulders and softening his face. When he speaks, his voice is calm and steady. “Millie, I’m trying to tell you, I saw the error in my ways and I sought to correct them, but it was too late. Your mother would hear nothing of it. It was both of you or neither of you. I knew, even if I got the courts involved, even if I got what I wanted, she would win. She’d be in my life forever.”
“That thought never crossed your mind when you were fucking her without a condom?”
“Millie—”
“And what about when I was older? I’m twenty-six years old! If my mother was the real reason you stayed away, what’s your excuse for when I was no longer under her thumb? Why didn’t you come for me then? I’ve been on my own for eight years—and you choose now to drop by?”
“I have an entire life! I’ve had children and a wife to look after, I—”
“Children?”
“Two girls and a boy. Your half siblings. I—”
I don’t hear the rest of his sentence, the pain in my chest so unbearable, I wonder if I’ve actually been stabbed. I press my hands over my sternum, pressing down hard in an attempt to relieve the pressure, but it does nothing. Then I realize, as long as I’m breathing the same air as he is, I won’t be able to take in enough oxygen. His every word is suffocating me.
“Get out,” I demand, pointing to the door.
“Millie,” he starts to protest, standing to his feet.
“I can’t. I can’t do this right now. It’s—get out!”
“Millie, please—”
“I’m sure that you can understand that your reasons for choosing to live a life without me in it are nothing short of pathetic. And if you think for one second that you can come in here and speak to me of your family, as if I should give a single shit about the other obligations in your life that kept you from considering me and my life, then you are the sorry bastard here—not me. Now get out!”
He stares at me, obviously stunned, and clearly at a loss for words. My eyes are so full of tears, I can barely see through them, but I refuse to let him see me cry.
I refuse.
It takes him a few seconds, but then he finally resigns himself to the fact that I’m not the little girl he left. I have no intention of welcoming him with the love of a daughter who longs for her father. That girl is long gone—crushed by his cowardice.
“I never imagined that this would be easy,” he starts to say, sliding his coat over his arms before shrugging it onto his shoulders. “Twenty years is a long time. But I didn’t come all the way out here to be dismissed.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. I then watch as he slides out a business card and tosses it in front of me onto my desk. “I’m here for the remainder of the week. If you don’t call me, I will be back, Millie.”
I stare down at the card, a single tear trickling down my cheek as he makes his exit.
WE SPEND MOST of the day practicing, addressing our weak spots so our time in the studio tomorrow won’t be wasted. It’s after five before we decide to call it quits, and the kitchen is everyone’s first stop. I’m just peeking into the refrigerator when Alex tells us that she wants to make us all dinner as a way of saying thank you for letting her crash at our place. We all agree that she’s doled out enough thank yous already, but none of us are about to turn down a free meal. After announcing that she needs to make a quick run to the grocery store, she’s out the door. Not two minutes later, I hear my girl.
“Sage?” she cal
ls out.
I head out of the kitchen, stepping into the front hallway, and smile at the sight of her. “Hey, doll face,” I say in greeting. I kiss her once I’ve closed the distance between us, but she’s distracted and barely kisses me back.
“What’s going on? What’s all this?” she asks, pointing into the living room.
Alex’s things are stacked in a neat pile just beside the TV. We helped her unpack her car after breakfast this morning.
“Alex moved in. She needed a place to stay, so she’s crashing on the couch for a while.”
“What?” Millie mutters, a deep scowl pulling at her brow.
“Yeah. Her parents kicked her out. It’s all good, though. We got her covered,” I say with a shrug.
“So—you’re telling me you now live with another woman?”
I frown at her, wondering why she seems so bothered by this. “Yeah, I guess.”
She looks me square in the eye and states, “No.”
“Uh, what?”
“No. No—I don’t like this.”
Before I can utter another word, she turns on her heel and hurries up the stairs. Confused and annoyed that she seems upset over something so minor, I follow after her. By the time I make it to my room, she’s already in my closet.
“Millie, what are you doing?”
She emerges with my duffle bag, which she deposits on the bed before she goes back into my closet. This time, she comes out with an armful of clothes. I watch as she dumps them carelessly into the bag, hangers and all, before turning to make yet another trip to the closet. I stop her before she can get there, gently grabbing her shoulders.
“What the fuck?” I demand to know.
“You can’t have a girl roommate. That makes me uncomfortable. You have to stay with me.”
She tries shaking me off, but my grip tightens as I say, “It’s just Alex. What’s your deal?”
“My deal is, I don’t want you living with a pretty, little someone sleeping on the couch night after night!”
Again, she tries to maneuver out of my grasp. Again, I hold her still.