by Carian Cole
I rinse my hair and shower as best I can and then go through my routine of blow-drying my hair, brushing my teeth, and getting dressed, hoping if I just act normal, he'll show up. He doesn't.
Realizing it's now noon, I rationalize that I should call someone, in case something has happened to him. I can't just sit here and ignore it, so I call Evie's cell phone.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Evie… It's Asia. I'm so sorry to bother you."
"It's okay, you can call me anytime. What's up?"
"Um… I'm a little worried. Talon never came home last night, and I tried his cell, but there's no answer and—"
She cuts me off. "Asia, he's here with us. He's fine."
My heart leaps. "He's there?"
"I thought you knew, I'm so sorry." The tone of her voice tells me she's being truthful.
"No, I had no idea. I've been freaking out all morning."
"Oh, Asia, I'm sorry. I honestly thought you knew he came home with us or else I would have texted you last night to let you know."
"Why didn't he come home? I left at about three. He was stoned and I couldn't get him to leave, and I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to come home and go to bed, and I thought you guys had left already."
She sighs into the phone. "No, Storm had this bright idea of fooling around on the roof. Don't even ask. Anyway, when we finally were getting ready to leave, we found Talon and he was kinda wasted but said you went home. We didn't want to leave him like that, so we brought him home with us and he slept on the couch."
"Was he with someone? Please tell me." I brace myself for her answer.
"No, he was pretty high and I think had a little too much to drink. I swear to you, I did not see him with another girl. He was hanging out with two guys when we found him."
A small amount of relief comes over me and I blow out a breath. "I don't like this at all, coming home alone and waking up not knowing where he is. I've been a wreck."
"Well, yeah, I would be too. Here, Storm wants to talk to you…" I hear her pass the phone to him.
"Hey, Asia." Storm's voice comes over the phone, and he actually sounds a lot like Talon.
"Hi…"
"Look, I know you're upset, and this shit isn't cool. I'll have a talk with him, 'kay? I'll set his ass straight that he can't pull this shit now that he's married."
"Well, he's an adult, so I can't tell him what to do. But honestly, this is not something I want to deal with, and he knows it."
"Trust me, he needs a kick in the ass. He's partied enough; it's time to grow up. Letting you leave the club in the middle of the night is shitty. He's going to get an earful over it."
"Yeah, it kinda was. I've been freaking out all morning. I thought something terrible happened to him or he went home with someone else."
"No, he was just stoned stupid and drunk."
"Terrific."
"Do you want to come get him? He's asleep on the couch. Or I'll bring him home."
Taking a deep breath, I switch the phone over to my other ear. "Ya know what? If you don't mind, you can bring him home. I don't think I want to be in a car with him when I'm still so mad at him."
"Good call, sweetheart. Don't worry, okay? He really cares about you. This is just a bump in the road."
"I hope you're right."
"I'm always right," he teases. "I'll have him home in a little while."
"Thank you, Storm, for looking out for him."
"Of course, he's my baby brother. I spent most of my life looking out for him. I'll see ya soon."
I end the call and run my hand through my hair, relief and frustration coursing through me. I really hope this is not a sign of habits to come because I do not want to be one of those women who is constantly worrying where her man is or what he's doing. That kind of stress will eat me alive, and I never would have married someone that I knew drank, did drugs, and didn't come home. Again, I want to have an epic freak-out on the team for setting me up with him. Why would they do this?
My feelings for him are definitely growing, but that just makes this even harder. I don't want to fall in love with someone who is eventually going to hurt me or has a substance abuse problem. I watched that kind of behavior destroy my family, my childhood, and almost my own life if I had let it.
Needing to keep my mind busy, I shut myself in my workroom and make a list of the soap orders I have to make next week. Then I sit on the floor and sort through all the random fabrics I have, trying to figure out what I can use to make some more cool stage clothes for the guys.
I'm lost in my thoughts when I hear the front door open and close and his heavy footsteps come down the hall, stopping in front of my closed door.
"Asia?" He knocks softly on the door. "Are you in there?"
"Yes."
"Can I come in?"
"It's your house."
He comes in and hesitates by the door, still wearing the same clothes, but looking pretty disheveled. "It's our house," he mumbles, his voice scratchy.
"Whatever." I start tossing my fabric back into the plastic storage boxes.
"I hate that word."
My hands still for a moment. "Let's not get started on what we each hate, Talon. I'm pretty sure my list is longer than yours right now."
"No doubt." He crosses the room and sits in the chair a few feet away from me. "Are you packing?" he asks.
"Should I be?"
"No."
Shaking my head, I shut the lids on the boxes a little too loudly. "No, I'm not packing. I was seeing what fabric I had in case you or anyone in your band really wanted me to make them some clothes."
"Of course we do."
"Great." Standing, I turn to leave the room, but he grabs my hand.
"Asia, please talk to me."
Pulling my hand out of his, I cross my arms and stare out the window, thinking how much it sucks to be so happy to see someone but also so pissed off at them at the same time. The struggle is real.
"What do you want me to say? Thanks for letting me come home alone? Thanks for letting me sit here and worry about you? Thanks for doing all the things I've worked so hard to get out of my life?"
"I'm sorry."
"I hate that word." I throw back at him.
He nods slowly, his head hanging down. "You have every right to be mad, baby—"
"Do not call me baby right now."
"Okay. I know I fucked up bad, and I'm sorry. The last thing I want to do is hurt you or make you mad at me. You do know that, right?"
"I think so."
"Don't think that, know that."
"Then show it."
He slowly lifts his head to meet my eyes, and he honestly looks like crap. Bloodshot eyes, messy hair, dark circles under his eyes. I quickly look away, not wanting to see him this way.
"I can't even look at you," I utter softly. "You look terrible."
"I feel terrible, but mostly about fucking things up between us. I didn't plan on that happening. It's just what I've always kinda done, ya know? We play, then we party after. I never had a reason not to, but now I do."
"And yet you still did it."
"You're right, and I know it was wrong. And I know sorry doesn't do shit right now, but I am sorry. I understand that drugs and alcohol are something I have to give up to make this work with you—and for me to be successful at anything, really. Storm is right. It's time for me to grow up and get away from that shit. I know I'm not perfect or in any way even fucking close, but I do care, and I am trying."
"I know that, Tal. I see it. I just can't have someone who uses drugs and alcohol in my life. I hate to say this, but if it's something you're going to continue, then we have to end this."
"I know, and I respect you for that."
I take a deep breath and exhale, my body shuddering. I don't want this to end already, not when we've only just started and have so far to go.
I drift toward the window and look out over our beautiful backyard where a squirrel is bouncing around among t
he shrubs. "I feel like every time we make some progress, we go back a step."
He rises and moves to stand behind me. "Isn't that normal?"
"Yeah, I suppose it is. I keep forgetting we've only been together about a month. It feels longer than that in some strange way."
His arms come around me from behind, and he holds me against his broad chest. "It does." He presses his lips against my ear. "I'm sorry. I'll be better, I promise," he whispers.
I close my eyes and try to let his words seep into me, to convince me that they're true.
Clasping my hands over his arms, I sink back into him and turn my head into his chest. "I hope so. I need you to be the one I can trust, no matter what," I say softly and then slowly unravel myself from him. "You should go take a shower. I'm going to finish this up."
He takes a few steps toward the door and then pauses. "For what it's worth, I loved having you there last night. I've never had someone who was mine there to see me play. And you looked gorgeous, Aze. Even now, standing there in just a T-shirt and sweats and no makeup, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Yeah, I still think you're cute, but you're beautiful too, which is a really fucked-up combination. And even more than any of that, you're amazing on the inside, and that's something I've never had. If that makes any fucking sense."
With that painfully honest confession, he leaves the room.
* * *
Later when I check my email and social media accounts, I'm bombarded with over a hundred new likes on my soap-making page, over two hundred new likes on my clothes-making page, and eighty-nine new friend requests on my personal profile.
"What the…?" I say to myself, trying to process why I suddenly have this monstrous interest in my itty-bitty business ventures. Then I realize the photos of Talon and me from the show last night were posted on the Ashes & Embers pages and also tagged on Talon's fan page. Also, the guy who asked me the questions typed up a brief article about our recent marriage, my name, and what I do. It seems like fans of the band have jumped over to my page and, holy shit…they are messaging me for orders for soap and clothes.
Oh my God.
I've never had so many orders. Ever.
I can't scan the emails and private messages fast enough—most of them raving about how much they loved Talon's clothes and have checked my photos of past designs and want to order something similar or entirely new.
I navigate over to Talon's page and click on the photo of us together, first saving it to my laptop because it's actually a great photo, and then reading the comments, which are mostly sweet and supportive, congratulating us. Just as Evie warned, there are also a few nasty comments, mostly from women saying I'm a gold digger, I'm ugly, he can do better, this won't last, I'm ruining him, and offering sexual favors. Terrific.
I have no idea how I'll ever get through all these emails and messages, let alone process all these orders. A mixture of fear and excitement comes over me as I read a few of the messages, shocked that they really seem to genuinely like my designs. This is like another dream come true for me. People actually want to buy my fashion designs and wear them. And my bath products!
Pixie jumps up on my desk and rubs on my arm, which prompts me to check her little blog page, and I'm blown away again. There are even more comments and page likes for her!
I pick her up and kiss her head. "Pixie, you're even more famous!"
Carrying the cat, I go upstairs to find Talon sitting on the love seat in the bedroom, writing in his journal.
"Tal, I have a zillion new likes on my pages and more orders than I can count."
He looks up at me, his wet hair hanging over his face, confusion in his eyes. "Huh?"
"That photographer from the club last night posted our photo and my info, and now I have over a hundred new likes and friend requests and a bunch of new orders for clothes and bath products."
"Baby, that's great."
"The cat even has more followers!"
He smiles but rolls his eyes. "Don't even get me going on the cat having more fans."
I sit on the love seat next to him and Pixie crawls onto his lap, nudging the journal out of her way like cats do.
"It kinda makes me feel weird, though, that these people are only ordering my designs because of you."
He puts the cap on his pen and closes his journal, putting it on the end table next to the love seat.
"Here's the thing, Aze…" He takes a puff of his e-cig. "Most music fans are really loyal and supportive. They try to come to as many shows as they can, they comment on all of our posts online, they send us real mail, they buy all our music and all our stuff, like our band shirts. A huge percentage of them, especially the girls, will also become fans of the girlfriends and wives of any member in any band. I'm not just talking about Ashes & Embers. I'm talking about in general for all bands." He rubs Pixie's head absently as he talks. "A lot of them will become fascinated with you, too, and want to support you or follow you online. It makes them feel close to us. Evie went through this too. She started to get a ton of emails and her own little fan club of sorts when she and Storm went public."
"That's cool, but I don't want people to only like my designs because they're your fans," I say. "I want them to really like me and my products."
"First of all, people ain't gonna spend money buying your stuff unless they really like it. Most people don't have money to burn. So once you start seeing repeat buyers, you'll see for yourself it is your stuff they want. Knowing they're supporting the wife of one of their favorite band members is a little added bonus for them."
I nod slowly, trying to process this new world I've been thrown into. "Yeah, I guess that's true." I never really thought about all of this before—or even remotely considered it.
"It is. Look, so maybe this is kind of a jump-start for your business, and I know it's probably not how you wanted to get known, but enjoy it. Your designs are hot. People will love them and pay for them. If they found you through me and the band, who cares? Tons of people got popular and successful due to connections. There's nothing bad about it. Have faith in your designs. Trust me, they'll sell themselves."
I smile at him for making me feel better. "I hope so. And if we design together, the fans will really go crazy, don't you think?"
He nods and blows a puff of vapor into the air. "I do, babe. I think it will be great for both of us. I like the idea of us having a little side business together. A lot of musicians do. Do you have a business name or anything like that?"
Shaking my head, I bite my lip, feeling a little embarrassed that I don't. "No. I just used my name."
"We should come up with a business name, a logo, some packaging, a website like I already mentioned…"
"Talon, really? You think I need all that?"
"Fuck yeah, baby. Let me make some phone calls during the week, and we'll get this all set up right. You could see a lot of money start rolling in from this."
Holy wow.
"Thank you. I appreciate all your help with this. Some of the people online were calling me a gold digger, and I just want you to know I never, ever wanted any of this. I'm not trying to get anything out of you or your fans."
"Fuck those assholes. You, a gold digger? I have to force you to spend money. You'd sit in this house and eat apples and tofu and cut your hair with a steak knife if I let you. Don't listen to that shit, okay? They're just jealous. Unfortunately, it comes with the territory." He pulls me against his chest and puts his arm around me. "I missed you last night," he adds softly. "I really felt like shit when I woke up this morning and realized how bad I fucked up."
I rest my head against his shoulder, resolving myself to forgive him. People make mistakes. "I was really mad and upset, Talon. And scared. I thought something happened to you."
"I'm sorry. Storm and Evie fucking went off on me. Like, both of them at the same time. I thought my head was gonna explode."
I giggle a little. "Good. You kinda deserve it."
"Yeah, I do." He
leans his chin against my head. "At least Storm didn't beat the shit out of me like he used to when we were younger. He has a much gentler, yet louder, approach now."
"I was afraid you went home with that blond girl," I admit, playing nervously with the buttons on his shirt.
"What? Not a chance. And I'm glad you didn't go home with Finn." He digs back.
I lift up my head to make a face at him. "Seriously? That's not even funny."
"No, it's not, but I know he's attracted to you, and I wouldn't put it past him to make a move on you."
"He's not as much of an asshole as you think he is, Talon."
His jaw clenches. "Don't tell me you like him."
"I don't dislike him."
He shakes his head in frustration. "We'll have to agree to disagree on that one. But if I ever see him with his hands on you again, I'm going to beat his ass."
I stand up and take Pixie off his lap. "Same goes for your blond. Just because I'm short and shy doesn't mean I'm a wuss. I grew up in the ghetto, and my brother taught me how to fight dirty. I'll kick her fake-boobed, bleached-blond ass into next week."
A huge smirk spreads across his face. "That kinda turned me on. Jealousy means you want me."
"You're twisted. I'm going to feed the cat and make some dinner. You can join us if you'd like."
I'm honestly too excited about all my new orders to continue to stress over some nasty chick pawing at him. I'm just going to have to trust him and try to get used to all these new experiences like fans and skanks.
Chapter 20
Talon
Two months with no pussy. First, the weeks prior to the wedding, and now the weeks since the wedding. I'm losing my fucking mind with my dick in this prison of commitment to a girl who served it a sentence of life with the possibility of parole for good behavior.
Love.
It's what she wants—and needs.
It's what I didn't think I needed in life.