It Ended With the Truth

by Lisa Suzanne

  “Thanks for looking out for me,” I say wryly as I catch the bottle.

  “That’s what big brothers do.” He leans against the counter. “Look, Brian. I asked you on this tour to help get your mind off all the shit you’ve been going through. You’ve had a rough couple months, but it’s okay to pull your head out of your ass now. It’s okay to smile once in a while and it’s okay to have a good time.”

  “I had fun last night on Bourbon,” I counter.

  Mark grins. “Didn’t we all? But you’re a single, good-looking dude with a killer gene pool.” He shoots me a smug look, as if to say one of my only redeeming qualities is the fact that he’s my brother. “Live it up a little. Have some fun. Bang some babes. Get fucked up while Keith’s here to pick up your slack.”

  “I love how the rock star is schooling me in how to live like a rock star.”

  He laughs. “You could learn a thing or two.”

  “I don’t want to bang some babes, Mark. I just want Viv.”

  He twists his lips at me. “Okay. Then you have two choices. Talk to her and figure it out or chuck it in the fuck it bucket and move on.”

  “I can’t talk to her when we’re two thousand miles apart.” I glance out the window as I think of the distance separating us and how much time we’ve both wasted.

  “I gave you two fucking weeks to talk to her, man. You didn’t?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t have any idea what to say. I worked within three feet of her for a month and we both kept things strictly professional except for the first day when she slapped me across the face.”

  Mark’s lips tip up in an obvious smile he doesn’t do a good job of hiding. “She slapped you?”

  I lift a shoulder. “I probably had it coming.”

  He laughs at that. “Definitely. I just want you to be happy. I want you to find what I have. Everyone deserves that.”

  I press my lips together.

  “Even you,” he says, and I know he doesn’t mean it as an insult but rather a gentle reminder that despite my history, he can tell I’m a changed man.

  I stand. “Thanks for the pep talk. I have to deliver hotel keys.”

  “Just think about what I said, okay?”

  I nod. “I’ll think about it.” But I can’t do anything from the road, so the conversation I need to have with her is going to have to wait until I get back.

  chapter seventeen

  My text from Vivian that night in Nashville is all business.

  Vivian: Today’s numbers are in your inbox.

  No follow-up question, no comment on my earlier confession...nothing. The personal edge to her texts is completely gone.

  My heart sinks, but I throw my energy back into the job I’m here to do.

  As we tour through the Heartland of the States, I pick up more souvenirs for Viv. In Ohio, one of the local crew guys tells me about the Great Lakes Christmas Ale, so I pick up a six-pack. I don’t know if Viv is a beer drinker, but it’s the thought that counts, and my thought is we can split a six-pack.

  In Michigan, I pick up a Petoskey stone, the state rock that’s also a fossil. I thought about getting something larger, but I’m already running short on space for all these souvenirs. I’ve been packing them in a storage compartment under the bus for the time being, and once Keith is gone, I’ll have some additional space for storage.

  Our last gig with Keith at the helm is in Illinois, and as we pull in behind the amphitheater, I feel a rush of nervous energy.

  Keith has already told me he’s handing duties over to me for this show and he’ll stand back in support. I go through my mental checklist of everything I need to accomplish. We’ve got a four-day tour break while we’re in Illinois—something Mark always plans for since we hail from Chicago. While we’re in town, my mom insisted on having everyone over for an big Fox Thanksgiving dinner a couple weeks before Thanksgiving. And not just the Fox kids—my sister and her husband will be there, but Mom has also invited the Vail band members. It’ll be a big, loud holiday filled with home-cooked food in the midst of our tour.

  And I, for one, can’t wait for a familiar home and a hot shower.

  I start my day at the hotel Keith chose for the crew as I grab keys and check everyone in. They’ll be here for four nights before they head down to St. Louis for our next tour stop, so Mark’s little Chicago tour break doesn’t come cheap. I’ll be staying at my parents’ place. The band members will be staying at Mark’s place in Chicago.

  I double check with the venue that all the rider requests are met, confirm a few radio and press interviews scheduled for the next few days with Penny, and check in with transportation to ensure we’ve got travel arrangements to and from those interviews.

  It’s not even two in the afternoon yet and I’ve already ticked a bunch of items off my to-do list.

  While I’m at it, I text Vivian. I’ve got nothing to lose at this point.

  Me: I notice your daily texts have lost their personal touch. I miss your questions about the reports. I miss your conversation about this tour. But most of all, I miss you.

  I stare at my phone as I wait for a response, but it doesn’t come. And then the whirlwind begins.

  I supervise setup operations as the crew starts unloading equipment. I meet with the promoter and the venue’s liaison to confirm we’re ready to go for tonight. I help set up the dressing rooms and text out tonight’s schedule to everyone who needs it.

  I trudge through each task with no reply from Vivian even though I gave her a part of my heart in that text message. Every time my phone notifies me of a text, I eagerly grab it to see if it’s her as my heart lifts in hope.

  And every time it’s not her, my heart drops just a little lower than the time before.

  The feeling is just the culmination of months of heartache. It’s my personal penance for the sins of my past. Everything was ripped away from me because I’m just getting exactly what I deserve after the way I’ve treated people for my entire life.

  I used to think it was so easy to float through life without a care about who I might be hurting. Truth be told, it was easier to go through life that way. Ignorance is bliss, and when I ignored the consequences of my own actions, I breezed through life. It was only in developing a conscience that everything suddenly exploded in complete bedlam.

  The show is perfect, and the band and crew are completely cleared out and on their way to their hotels a little after midnight. Somewhere in the midst of supervising the tearing down of the stage, my nightly text from Vivian comes through. I read the first few words that look the same as every other text and slide the phone back into my pocket. It’ll give me something to look at later once I’m not in the thick of work.

  I assure Keith ten times that I’ve got everything covered before he takes off. I think about heading to my parents’ house tonight, but by the time I get there, it’ll be close to one. I’ll just sleep on the bus tonight since I’ve got it to myself anyway and then grab a ride to their place in the morning.

  Once I settle into my quiet bunk, I pull open the text from Vivian.

  Vivian: Today’s numbers are in your inbox. Thank you for what you said earlier, but I need you to stop making this more difficult.

  She needs me to stop making this difficult? What the fuck is she even talking about?

  Instead of replying to her text, I decide to call her. It’s late in Los Angeles, too, so I shouldn’t be surprised when she doesn’t answer my call.

  I am, though. Surprised and disappointed.

  But that disappointment lifts a bit when my phone starts ringing less than thirty seconds later.

  “Hey,” I answer.

  “Hi. Sorry about that. You caught me brushing my teeth.” She sounds a little breathless, like she rushed to the phone to answer it.

  “It’s okay. I just wanted to ask about your text.”

  “What about it?”

  “How am I the one making it difficult?”

  She sighs so loudly I h
ear it over the line. “Because you’re telling me things you could’ve told me in person when we were working side by side.”

  “I didn’t think you wanted to hear them,” I say defensively.

  “Every girl wants to hear them.” Her voice is low, and I wonder if it’s because she feels the truth of them or if it’s because she’s trying to be quiet since her husband might be in the next room.

  “Can we just have this out right now?” I ask.

  “No, Brian, we can’t,” she says softly—too softly for me to get a good read on her tone, but I’m almost positive I hear agony in there. “I can’t. You’re thousands of miles away. We can talk about whatever we’ve both been running from for almost six months when you get back.”

  I need to know why she’s pushing me off, but I also need to respect her. Last time she told me she couldn’t do something, I pushed and pushed until I got what I wanted—and I ended up alone with a broken heart. So this time, in the end, she wins. “Fine. We’re back in California for our last two shows in four weeks.”

  “I know. I’ve been watching the tour.”

  “You have?”

  “Sure,” she says. “What are you doing now?”

  “I’m sitting on a tour bus by myself.”

  “Why?”

  “We’ve got a break for a few nights. I’m going to my parents’ house tomorrow but didn’t want to ring their bell at one in the morning. The rest of the crew is checked into hotels.” I finger the edge of my blanket.

  “Why didn’t you get one?”

  “Someone taught me how to save money.” I laugh. “Besides, the bus isn’t so bad when you’ve got it to yourself.”

  “So you’re, uh...all alone, then?”

  “Yeah. Why?” I ask, my voice a low rumble.

  She clears her throat. “No reason.”

  “I know you didn’t ask, but I’m going to say it anyway. If you’re wondering whether there’s been a different woman every night, the answer is no.”

  “It’s because of me?” she asks softly.

  “I told you, Viv,” I say. My nickname for her just slips off my tongue. I realize my mistake, but I don’t do anything to correct it and she doesn’t interrupt me for once to yell at me, either. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t want any of them. I know I’m not supposed to, especially after what happened between us, but I just want you.”

  She’s silent on the other end of the call, and I wish I could see her eyes. I wish I could get some insight into what she might be thinking or feeling, but she offers nothing along with her silence.

  I refuse to be the first one to speak after the confession I’ve now made twice, so I allow the silence to stretch uncomfortably between us. When she finally speaks, her quiet voice makes her sound like she’s fighting tears. “Thank you for saying that. I have to go.”

  She ends the call, and I stare at my screen for a few beats before I finally toss my phone aside. I’m not sure if that was progress or if it set us back, but I don’t regret taking the road of honesty. In fact, I sort of think I need to do it more often.

  * * *

  “Brian, hand me that hot pad, would you?” my mom asks. I pass it over to her from my spot at the kitchen table as she scurries around with meal prep.

  “Are you sure I can’t help you?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “I promised a big, traditional family Thanksgiving, and I’m going all out.”

  “You certainly are.” I look upon the total chaos my mom has made of the kitchen. “Why didn’t you just take Mark up on his offer?” He said he’d hire a chef and crew to do all the work so my mom didn’t have to lift a finger, but she declined.

  “Well that wouldn’t be any fun, now, would it?” She narrows her eyes at me then yells, “Paul!”

  My dad appears in the doorway a few seconds later. He looks a little nervous about what my mom’s newest request might be, and I laugh. “Everyone will start arriving in the next twenty minutes. Make sure there’s plenty of cold beer in the garage fridge. We’ve got thirteen total plus three babies, and some of the guys are heavy drinkers.”

  “They don’t want beer, Diane. They want the good stuff.” My dad grins at me and pulls out a bottle of Macallan from behind his back.

  Damn, I love that guy.

  “Well then make sure you have plenty of whiskey,” she says.

  “Yes ma’am,” he says, mock saluting her.

  I chuckle, and he turns back toward the garage to do whatever he can to escape my mom while she’s on a rampage.

  To my surprise, she sits in the chair beside me. She takes my hands in hers. “You’ve been here nearly five hours now and you haven’t mentioned the girl.”

  “The girl?”

  “The one you came here to escape a few months back. The last time I saw your cute face.” She grabs my chin between her thumb and the side of her forefinger like she used to when I was a kid.

  I blow out a breath. “Nothing to talk about.”

  She twists her lips in disappointment. “Really?”

  “Mark hired her at Ashmark as my replacement while I’m on tour with the band.”

  Her eyes light up. “He did?”

  I nod. “But it hasn’t changed anything. I still want to be with her, and as far as I know, she’s still married. We’ve agreed to talk after the tour.”

  She presses her lips together. “How are you holding up?”

  I lift a shoulder. “I’m okay. I’m getting by.”

  “That’s not what I want for you, baby. I want you to be happy.”

  “I want that, too, Mom,” I murmur.

  The doorbell rings and the festivities begin. My mom invited my sister and brother earlier than the other guests, so Lizzie and Dave arrive first, then Mark, Reese, and Ashton. My dad snaps a few photos of Lizzie, Mark, and me in front of the fireplace, just like they’ve done every year, and then he has Reese take some pictures of the three of us with our parents. They take every combination imaginable, and for the final photo, my dad sets up the camera on a tripod, hits a button, and rushes over to stand beside my mom as we wait for the flash. He always sets the timer to take four consecutive shots so at least one will look good.

  At the very last second before the first image is snapped, Lizzie yells, “I’m pregnant!”

  My mom screams, Reese squeals with Ashton in her arms, my dad yells something unintelligible, my brother grabs Lizzie in a bear hug. Dave, who is standing right next to me, is grinning ear to ear, and I reach over and bro-pound his back. “Congrats, man,” I say.

  And it’s all caught on camera—the priceless reactions of a family reacting to happy news.

  After my mom wipes her tears away and my dad resets the camera, we pose for more family photos, Everyone’s smiles are a little wider...except mine, maybe. We all stand a little closer, united together as we look toward another addition to our family...and it’s all a reminder I’m here alone.

  I wish I could call Vivian with the good news that my sister is pregnant. Even after our time apart, it’s still my instinct to turn to her with news—good or bad.

  The feeling of loneliness gets worse as more guests start to arrive. Ethan’s arm is around his fiancée, Maci, as she holds their one-month-old boy, Eli. Steve and Angelique share a private smile as their little girl, Adelaide, bounces into the room in front of them. James and Morgan arrive last, their fingers laced loosely together.

  Vail used to be about four men who partied like rock stars because they are rock stars and banged whoever they wanted because they could while they made music that topped every chart. Now it’s a family. Ethan teases Ashton while Reese holds baby Eli, a look of longing in her eyes that says she already wants another one.

  Mark and James take turns reading the pages of a book to Adelaide while Steve and Angelique take a break and fill their plates with appetizers in the kitchen.

  When we sit down to dinner at the huge table in my parents’ dining room, I look around me.

 
; Ethan’s arm is around Maci, and they’re both looking at the little one bundled in her arms. Reese and Mark sit on either side of Ashton’s high chair, both laughing at the baby’s reaction as Reese spoons some rice cereal into the seven-month-old’s mouth. My parents watch the feeding unfold with laughter and something akin to pride in their eyes, and I watch as my mom’s eyes soften even further as she looks at her pregnant daughter. Lizzie and Dave are laughing at something Ethan just said. Angelique helps Adelaide cut her turkey while Steve spoons out mashed potatoes onto his wife’s plate. James and Morgan hold their heads together in some private conversation for just the two of them, both smiling.

  The room is filled with laughter and smiles, but more importantly, I see love everywhere I look.

  And it’s an overwhelming reminder that I don’t fit in here.

  I don’t have the things they have.

  I wasn’t sure it was something I wanted—not after my heart was broken by Kendra. But then Vivian stepped into my life and made me believe in love again...at least until she shattered the illusion.

  But it doesn’t matter. From the very second she stepped into my life, falling in love with her was never a choice. It just happened, and I realize as I watch all the love around me that the reason I haven’t been myself for the last six months is because I’m not myself anymore. Vivian took a part of me, and that part will belong to her regardless of whether our paths lead back to each other. If they do, then I’ll be whole again. And if they don’t...well, then I’ll have to learn how to live again without that part of me.

  It’s a lightbulb moment. I’m stuck in this cycle of monotony despite the new and exciting adventures I’m on with a world-renowned rock band, but once the tour’s over and I’m back in Los Angeles, I’ll finally find my answer. I’ll either get the girl or I’ll start working on the closure I so desperately crave.

  Either way, something will change. I hope I find the parts of myself Viv holds, but if I don’t, at least I can give myself permission to find a way to move on.

  chapter eighteen