Offering her my love… it was like I was asking her to trust me, and I knew I wasn’t trustworthy.
I was struggling again. Drowning. Caught between Taylor’s love and this darkness in me that weighed me down.
I felt it pulling at me, jagged and black. A broken anchor, sank so long ago.
“So, are you gonna let me wish you a happy birthday, or what?” Taylor asked me, as soon as I walked back into the bedroom. I’d gone into the bathroom to clean up while she lingered in bed. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who doesn’t celebrate their birthday.”
“I don’t,” I said, pulling on my underwear.
She just lay there, the sheet wrapped around her waist and her breasts bare. She looked like some goddess from an old painting. Like the women on the walls at Bliss. An ageless fantasy, too pure to be real. To strong to ever be broken. “You know, I’m really, really proud of you.”
“Why?” I looked away as I pulled on my jeans.
“Because you’ve gone down to Little Black Hole twice now,” she said with wonder, as if I’d walked on water or found a way to feed all the world’s poor. “That’s amazing.”
“Functioning like a regular human isn’t amazing,” I said. Then I leaned over to kiss her on the forehead. “Curing childhood illness is amazing.”
“Of course. That’s true. But I am proud of you.” She caught my hand as I tried to slip away, and tugged. I sat down on the bed next to her. “You’ve worked hard to be able to do this. You should be proud. Feel good about your accomplishment, Cary.”
“I do.”
She kept hold of my hand, entwining her fingers gently with mine. “Would you ever consider staying with the band?”
I avoided that look of hope in her eyes. Ever since I’d forced my ass down to Little Black Hole a few days ago, and then done it again… she’d had that look in her eyes. Like I was cured.
Like I magically had my life back.
When all I’d really done was stretch my very small bubble to include one more building. A building that I owned.
Big fucking deal.
It was twenty-three steps from my front door to the back entrance of LBH. Twenty-three fucking steps.
I wasn’t a musician. I was a fucking magician at this point. Spinning illusions to convince everyone they were seeing something that wasn’t really there.
I wasn’t cured. I was sick.
I’d always be sick.
And Taylor was dreaming big, expansive, glittery things for me. I could see it in the depths of her eyes. My former career wrecked on a coral reef, overgrown with sea life. Lost treasure smothered in sand.
“What do you mean, stay with the band?” I said blankly.
“You seem to be enjoying writing with the Players and playing guitar with them. It seems like they’re enjoying it, too. Ash told Danica he loves working with you. Would you consider joining the band, if they asked you to?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I’m not looking to join a band,” I told her. “If I wanted that, I could’ve done that by now.”
“I’m sure,” she said carefully. “But the Players are kind of special, aren’t they?”
I didn’t answer that. I was sure it would be special as hell for her if I joined her best friend’s husband’s band and we all rode off into the rock star sunset together. But that was never happening.
I pulled away, grabbing my shirt off the floor to put it on.
She sat up, watching me. “I mean, Xander’s in the band. He’s your best friend. You could be bandmates again.”
“I’m not interested in joining the Players, Taylor. When the album is done, they’ll be touring. I’m not interested in touring.”
“Why? Because of your stage fright?”
“Yes.”
“But you toured before.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“But how do you know that you couldn’t do it again? You’re a great musician. And you’re enjoying working with the band, right?”
“I’m not in a band anymore. And I’m not going to be. I can’t tour.”
“Why?”
“I can barely leave the house, Taylor,” I said, my frustration edging to the surface. Don’t take it out on her. “How am I gonna go on tour?”
“You’ve been going down to the studio.”
“Twice,” I bit out. “Two times, I’ve walked through the door of the recording studio that I own, in the last five years.”
“And that’s amazing,” she said softly. “Given what you’ve been through. Plus, you went to Brick House Records. And to Bliss,” she added. I hated that that was all the evidence she had