#Moonstruck_A #Lovestruck Novel

by Sariah Wilson

  “What?” I demanded.

  “I’m sorry, Maze, but to be honest I don’t get why you’re so upset,” Parker finally said.

  I blinked, too shocked to respond.

  “It’s not like he knew about the kid and kept it from you,” Cole added. “Then you’d have a right to be upset.”

  “Yeah. He didn’t make this happen. It sounds like he was just as surprised as you were.”

  Fitz had moved onto the couch and put his arm around me while I’d recounted my story. “Maisy.” He said my name gently, like he was worried I might break. “Have you considered the possibility that Ryan needed you when he found out?”

  The heartache inside me quickly shifted to anger. What was happening? “How are you guys not on my side? Don’t you see he’s just like our father?”

  Cole folded his arms. “Ryan is nothing like our dad. And him having one kid he knew nothing about doesn’t make him like Louis. At all. Why would you even say that? I thought you loved Ryan.”

  “I did,” I sputtered.

  I do.

  Then, annoyingly enough, my brothers started talking about me like I wasn’t in the room.

  “She needs to get over this anger at Dad and move on with her life. It’s going to destroy any future relationship she ever tries to have.”

  “I can’t believe she just took off. It must have killed him.”

  “You can’t really blame her for that. Maisy has a tendency to overreact to things. She jumps to conclusions without having all the facts. Hopefully he already knows that about her.”

  “I don’t even believe in love, and I thought they were really in love.”

  “She’s going to regret this for the rest of her life.”

  “Stop!” I yelled, my fists balled up in my lap. I wouldn’t be able to take much more of this. I felt completely overwhelmed by their observations. It was all too much to process. “Enough. I don’t need your judgments. I came here for Fitz’s news. Can we please get back to that?”

  Parker looked like he was going to argue with me, but Fitz stood up, holding out one hand toward Parker. As if he was trying to placate him instead of me. “Okay. The first thing I should tell you is that Piper and I decided last week to become exclusive.”

  That was what he wanted to tell us? Like it wasn’t bad enough that I already had three knives sticking out of my back? He wanted to make sure he twisted his in nice and tight?

  “And Piper wants to become our manager. She’s ready for a change in her career, and she’s been doing this for long enough that she’s got the right kind of connections.”

  “I thought Piper didn’t crap where she eats,” Cole said.

  “She does now.”

  Ugh. That was completely gross. “What if you break up?”

  “We’re adults and professionals. We’ll be fine.”

  Raging anger blinded my vision for a second. So it would be fine for Fitz, but it hadn’t been fine for me. They’d all given me such a hard time about dating Ryan, fearful for their careers. I guess now it didn’t matter. I really couldn’t call Fitz out on his hypocrisy, given how badly Ryan and I had ended and that we were no longer together. Another sharp, stabbing pain throbbed in my belly.

  “The great news,” Fitz went on, “is that Piper has already booked us another tour. We’ll be flying over to Europe to tour with Many Maus.”

  “We’re going on tour with Minnie Mouse?” Parker asked.

  “No, the German rock band. Many Maus. Bunch of Top 100 European hits. It won’t be as nice as . . .” Fitz’s voice trailed off as he looked at me. “But if we want, they’ll send us the contracts tomorrow, and we can all sign. So I thought we should take a vote.”

  While I wanted to vote no on Piper as our manager purely out of spite, I reluctantly and angrily raised my hand as a yes for her and the tour.

  “Is that it?” I asked, standing up. I wasn’t sure how much more brotherly love I could take.

  Fitz nodded. “Yeah, that’s everything. But, Maisy, I really think we should talk.”

  I went to his front door and put my hand on the doorknob. “You know, after all we’ve been through together, the one thing I could always count on was my brothers having my back. No matter what.”

  Cole got to his feet as well. “We still have your back. Just not the way you wanted. You messed up. Who else is going to tell you that kind of truth?”

  Furious, I slammed Fitz’s front door behind me before Cole could say anything else. He was lucky I didn’t punch him first. How could they pretend that they were on my side and trying to help me after the horrible things they’d accused me of? Weren’t they supposed to love me no matter what? The utter and total betrayal of my brothers not standing by me was more than I could bear. Tears blurred my vision as I stomped out to my car. I was careful not to take my anger out on the road. My brothers’ idiocy was not worth getting in an accident over.

  Problem was, I didn’t know where to go next. I didn’t want to go home. Where I would sit and seethe.

  I wanted my mom. I needed her.

  So I drove to Century Pacific, and I wiped away my tears of frustration and anger as I followed behind the orderly. This really wouldn’t do me any good. She couldn’t actually help me. Not the way I needed her to.

  I couldn’t even hug her.

  Taking in a big breath, I reminded myself to be thankful for what I had. At least she was still here, in some form.

  I introduced myself again, and she immediately started chatting about the prom. “You seem sad,” she commented in the middle of her monologue.

  “I am. My boyfriend and I broke up.”

  “This close to prom? Why?”

  I so badly wanted her to comfort me and tell me everything would be okay! “Because he got another girl pregnant.”

  She gasped. “Is she going to drop out of school?”

  “No, she’s done with school.” It was probably a lot more shocking to think this had happened to a couple of teenagers than to adults.

  “He cheated on you, then?”

  “No.” I blinked. “Technically he didn’t cheat on me. It happened before we ever met.” Saying it out loud made me realize that my brothers, stupid and awful as they were, had been sort of right. Ryan hadn’t set out to hurt me or betray me. Which just aggravated me more. I tried to justify my anger. “The thing is, my father always does this. He has a bunch of different kids with a bunch of different women. It ruined my life. My mom’s life. I can’t go through that.”

  My mom nodded, looking thoughtful. “Do you think you’d feel the same way if your dad wasn’t the way he is?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” Maybe I would have felt angry or betrayed, but if I didn’t have such a dysfunctional parent, would I have gotten over it? “That’s hard to imagine, though.”

  “It doesn’t really seem fair to punish your boyfriend for your hang-ups.”

  “I’m punishing him for not using birth control correctly. It isn’t about my hang-ups.”

  “Okay.” My mother raised one eyebrow at me, the way she used to do when I was little and she didn’t believe me. It made my heart squeeze. “Whatever you say. I think you should forgive him.”

  “What?”

  “I go to church with my mom every week. I don’t know if I believe everything they’re saying, but I do think forgiveness is important.”

  My mouth literally dropped open. My mother had never once taken us to church. She’d grown up religious? How did I not know this?

  Was this why she put up with my father for so long?

  “So I just forgive him?” The way she had when she adopted Cole? “Just get over it?”

  “Well, yeah. You’d be a lot happier. Like when my best friend and I got into this massive fight junior year over Frank Cadieux. He was my boyfriend, and she kissed him! We didn’t speak for months. I was mad for a long time, but then I missed my friend, and it was all just . . . stupid. A waste. So I forgave Elaine.”

  I let out a sigh.
It wasn’t quite the same thing. “And then everything was fine?”

  “Not so much. Elaine was still mad at me. The thing is, though, when you forgive someone, it allows you to let go of your anger. When I stopped being angry, I found a way to fix our friendship.”

  I realized she was right. That this could be the answer to my situation. Maybe it wasn’t what I had come here for, and even though she didn’t know who I was, she’d still managed to help me.

  Not wanting to keep talking about Ryan, forgiveness, and the doubts that had started to creep into my mind, I said, “Hey, I don’t know if you remember, but I told you about how my family has a secret brownie recipe.”

  “Mine, too!”

  “Right. Anyway, I found out the secret. It was made from a mix.”

  She let out a low whistle. “That must have been a letdown. I would have been furious.”

  “It was a letdown. But I’ve been making them, anyway.”

  “Are they good?”

  I twisted my lips and cleared my throat, making the tears go away. Then I reached over and put my hand on her arm. “They’re good. But it isn’t the same.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Over the next couple of weeks as I got ready to go on tour again, I had nothing but time to think, to keep running my brothers’ words through my mind over and over. I had my groceries and the occasional takeout meal delivered so I could avoid the paparazzi still camped out in the complex’s parking lot. I also ordered some books online about forgiveness.

  I found some measure of relief after I confessed to Angie the truth of everything that had happened. She told me she’d be there for me but didn’t have much else to say about it.

  It left me even more time to sit and think, and to read advice from a number of different experts. Eventually it dawned on me that my idiot siblings had been right.

  Ryan didn’t need my forgiveness.

  I needed his.

  With some time and distance, I was able to think more clearly about that situation with CeCe. Ryan had been shocked. He hadn’t known, hadn’t kept me in the dark. He hadn’t betrayed me or cheated on me. Something life-altering had been dropped in his lap, right after I’d told him I wanted to be his wife. Where I would promise to love, honor, and support him. Instead of doing any of that, I took off.

  Ryan wasn’t like my father.

  I was.

  Leaving when it suited me, not standing and fighting for my relationship when I should have. Walking away when things got too hard. That wasn’t how relationships were supposed to work.

  My Harrison temper had made me do something so dumb.

  No, I mentally corrected myself, not willing to keep passing the blame. It wasn’t my DNA that was to blame. My father hadn’t forced me to be a terrible girlfriend. That was a choice I’d made.

  A choice I needed to beg Ryan to forgive me for.

  Like my mom had said, it was all a waste. Of time, energy, love.

  Forgiveness, obviously, had never been my strong suit, and now I was the one who needed it from the man I loved. If he couldn’t forgive me, it was what I deserved for reacting so badly. For saying things to him that were so blatantly untrue. Ryan had never been, and never would be, like my father. Ryan had been attentive, loving, and devoted to me the whole time we were together, despite what the tabloids were saying. And he was that way even before things were official between us.

  I also realized I needed to learn to forgive before I could ask for it from other people. Not Ryan. He didn’t need my forgiveness.

  My father did.

  Or, more accurately, I needed to forgive. Parker had been right. I’d never be in a functional relationship if I couldn’t get past my anger at my father. Because the only person my anger was hurting was me. My father was who he was. I didn’t have to let him be a part of my life, but I wanted to stop giving him power over me.

  I had to find a way to let go.

  I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I used my new forgiveness guides to help me. To make me into a better person.

  Admitting my own faults, that I was the one to blame when it came to Ryan, made it so that I could write music again. Like I’d unlocked some door that had been sealed shut because I wasn’t being true or authentic. Creation couldn’t come from lies.

  It came from truth.

  And pain.

  I also started looking up information on Ryan so I could see what he was up to. I saw more pictures with Skyler that made my stomach twist and turn. After a few calming breaths, I told myself that if he’d moved on with her, well, I deserved that, too. I wanted him to be happy. If it was with someone like her, I’d have to learn to accept it.

  My books were making me very Zen.

  Then I found a press release where his label announced an upcoming single, a duet between him and Skyler.

  That gave me a sliver of hope, something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  If they wanted him to do a duet, maybe all this “Skyler and Ryan are dating” stuff was just publicity.

  Maybe, if I could earn his forgiveness, we could find our way back to each other.

  I found a recent clip from an entertainment show. An interview. I both wanted to watch it and didn’t want to.

  I gave in and pressed PLAY. It hurt my heart to see the animated expression on his beautiful face, to hear his voice. To hear the laughter in it, like he’d totally moved on and wasn’t sitting in a small, dark apartment feeling sorry for himself.

  The interviewer asked him about the Moonstruck tour, and I actually forgot to breathe. Would Ryan talk about me?

  He told a couple of stories about his bandmates, one about Anton always sleeping, but nothing about Yesterday. Nothing about me.

  Until the interviewer asked, “What about you and Maisy Harrison? The lead singer of your opening act? Are you two still together?”

  As my heart cartwheeled like an Olympic gymnast in my chest, all the emotion left Ryan’s face. He looked like he’d been carved out of granite. “Next question,” he instructed.

  Freezing grief—all-encompassing, numbing, and painful—swallowed me up.

  I’d lost him.

  And it was all my fault.

  Then they talked about Ryan’s next album, and he spoke excitedly about how different the sound would be. More adult. More rock. More real instruments.

  It was everything he’d wanted. The reason we’d had a fake relationship in the first place. Despite my own pain at losing him, I was happy for him.

  I wanted to tell him.

  Why couldn’t I tell him? There was nothing to stop me from texting him. We were leaving for our tour the next day. I didn’t know how texting would work once I was in Europe. This might be my last chance.

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed my phone and entered his number.

  I pushed SEND, my fingers shaking. I waited. And waited.

  No response. Maybe I needed to stay away from small talk and tell him how I felt.

  Still nothing.

  What was he thinking? Had I really screwed things up so badly that he wouldn’t even respond to my text?

  Finally, two hours later, I put my phone away. There wouldn’t be any response.

  Ryan had just let me know, loud and clear, that we were 100 percent over.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Angie had offered to drive me to the airport, and I agreed. She talked about her wedding plans with Fox, and I promised to fly back for the event. I kept my gaze pointed out the window, only half listening. I hadn’t slept at all last night, devastated by Ryan’s lack of response.

  It had hit me all over again how much I missed him. How much I had missed him ever since New York. Missing him became so all-encompassing that it was like a black hole had opened up inside me, sucking up everything else so that I could no longer do anything but think about him.

  “Ryan troubles?” Angie correctly guessed. She knew all about my epiphany.

  “I texted him last night, and he didn’t
answer. I guess it really is over.” My voice caught on the last word, and I focused on breathing in and out.

  We came to a red light, and Angie held out her hand. “Let me see.”

  I gave it to her, and she quickly read through my short messages. “I can’t believe Ryan didn’t say anything back. I mean, if you could see him . . .” Her eyes went wide, as if she’d just admitted to something she shouldn’t have. “What I meant to say was if he could see you, see how much you’ve grown and that you’re willing to own up to your mistakes, I think it would change everything.”

  “Yeah, I’m super self-actualized now.” And super alone.

  “I didn’t mention it before, but Ryan’s throwing a party tonight to celebrate his new single.”

  With Skyler Smith, I reminded myself.

  “If you want, I could find out what’s going on.”

  “No!” I told her, taking my phone back. The light turned green, and Angie reluctantly moved with traffic. “He was pretty obvious here. I have to take the hint.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  What I wanted was Ryan back in my life, but I was trying to accept that as a non-option. “The worst part is the guilt. I really wish I could at least apologize, if nothing else.”

  “The best thing you can do with guilt is learn from it. And move on.”

  “I’m trying,” I told her. “But I feel like this horrible, selfish brat.” No wonder Ryan got over it so quickly.

  “You are an emotional, fiery artist and a wonderful daughter and sister and friend who made a mistake. You are allowed to make those. You’re human, after all.”

  I knew she meant well, but it didn’t really help.

  About twenty minutes later, we arrived at the airport. I hugged her goodbye and promised to text or email or whatever I could do when I was overseas. I grabbed my brand-new passport as I jostled my way through the crowd. This would be my second time on a plane, my first going out of the country.