Murphy's Law (Havenwood #2) - Riley Hart Page 0,18

even though you’ve never met them. You offer to help my mom even though you can’t. Because…”

He paused.

I held my breath.

“Because you feel like music to me.”

Jesus fucking Christ. My goddamned eyes were watering, and there was this ache in my chest. I wanted to go to him and stay with him and forget all the hard shit when he said stuff like that to me. But I knew I couldn’t. If I didn’t say it now, we’d keep going, but nothing would change. Nothing would get fixed. Things between us were rotting away, getting worse.

“But not enough to claim me publicly as yours?”

“Law…” He shook his head, no other words coming out.

I sat on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, looking at him. I might be like music to him, but I wasn’t music. That would always come first. I didn’t know if I had the right to begrudge him that. It was his livelihood. How he took care of his family. His dream. And I knew it wasn’t fair to ever push someone to come out. It had to be their choice. But I also knew I couldn’t keep doing this. It was slowly killing me. “I can’t do this anymore, Rem. I…can’t.”

He set his guitar on the floor beside him. I saw him folding in on himself, the curl of his spine and the way the bones in his body seemed to melt. I hated it because I knew that in a lot of ways, I was all he had. His mom was great, but he worried about her future, being able to take care of her, and he was afraid to tell her who he was. His siblings used him for money, just kept taking and taking, and eventually, I was afraid they would take until he had nothing left to give. Remy didn’t open up to people, didn’t let them see those vulnerable pieces inside, yet he did with me. But being a secret for five years was breaking me. Eventually, I was afraid there would be nothing left.

“Someday…maybe soon…”

“No.” If I accepted someday, I would keep accepting it. “I can’t. You’re not the only gay musician in the world.”

“I know that. I’m not stupid. I just…I’ve never had shit. Not in my whole fucking life. I was poor and shy and didn’t have friends. I was teased. All I had was music, and I’m scared to fucking death of losing that. I wasn’t supposed to have my dreams come true. I wasn’t supposed to be anyone, but I suddenly am, and now you’re asking me to cut myself open and show people all those parts of me that will make me that same boy I was before. You’re asking me to go against my manager and my label and the vast majority of my fan base.”

No…I wasn’t. I just wanted to be as important as those other things, but I had my answer.

I got it. Those feelings of fear and insecurity had deep roots, they were part of who Remy was, and I’d always known that. I couldn’t pretend there hadn’t been rumors going around about his sexuality over the years, and it hadn’t been good. Still, this fucking hurt, and I was angry, so damn angry. My hands fisted, and I waited. He looked away from me, which pissed me off more, that he couldn’t look me in the eyes as we walked away from something we’d shared for five fucking years.

“I guess you made your choice, then,” I said. He still didn’t look at me as I gathered my clothes, didn’t speak to me as I got dressed.

When I was finished, I walked over to him and kissed the top of his head. “Goodbye, Remy.”

As I turned to walk away, he reached out, grabbed my wrist, and held on tightly. “How do I do this without you?”

“You’re stronger than you think. You always have been.” I pulled my hand free, made it a couple of steps, stopped. “I love you because of your love of music. Because you’re strong yet vulnerable, and you show all those pieces to me. It’s what got me from the start—seeing you lose yourself in your music, then the walls close when you were finished, and then opening them for me. I knew from the beginning that you were giving me something you didn’t give anyone else. I love your shy, cute smile and the way you come apart for me. I love your