Page 41 of Synced to Us

I thought bringing her here would make Ma happy and get her constant phone calls about finding a “nice girl” and getting married off my back. I’d stick it to Brad, too. A successful woman at my side would give him less of an excuse to see me as a loser who found fame but wasn’t talented enough to keep it.

No wonder Dee was about to call it quits this morning. This deal we’ve made has gotten complicated with my baggage, feelings, and lies.

It’s not how I normally enjoy spending my weekend.

One more night.

I’m calmed by the thought. One more night of dragging Dee through the painful hell of my past, then I’ll go to this banquet of hers, and we can get back to our separate lives.

Now, that thought…the idea of leaving Dee…

Abandoning the desk, the papers, the stress, I stalk through the upstairs hallway and into my room, where my keyboard sits. That instrument is my separated shadow waiting for me to attach to it again. I sit in front of it and pound against the keys, playing out the feeling of dropping Dee off at her doorstep and only ever seeing her socially from then on.

This.

This is where I belong, not at a desk with a pile of unpaid bills.

With one hand on the keys and the other scribbling on sheet music, I lose myself in composition, writing another song to match my heartbeats.

* * *

I don’t know how much time passes, but it’s enough to jolt me upright when my bedroom door slams. I look to the window, noticing the creeping night over the blue sky.

Assuming it’s Dee, I turn, only to be stopped half-spin my Lucy’s claws in both my shoulders and her face in mine.

“How could you do it?” she asks, her eyes frantic.

“Do what?” I pluck one of her taloned hands off my shoulder, but Lucy’s unwilling to loosen her second so easily.

Lucy responds in a wet whisper, “Bring Dee here. Knowing what she does for a living.”

Oh, fuck. I told Dee not to say anything.

Aiming for calm, I ask, “What did she tell you?”

“Who she is. She works in the stock market, Wyn!” Lucy glances over her shoulder as if Ma or Brad will knock down my door any second. “And you brought her home to meet your mother? Us?” Lucy smacks me in the chest. “You made me like her, you donut.”

“What Dee does has nothing to do with our relationship,” I say. “We met, we really liked each other, and it was only after that I found out—”

“Stop with the bullcrap.” Lucy straightens. “You’re looking at the queen of bullcrap right here.”

I scrape my hair back with both hands. “What exactly went down? You guys were supposed to be shopping. Where’s Dee right now?”

“Chatting with your mother, and shopping is just code for gossiping, if you had any sense to figure that out. Clearly, you do not. If May finds out…”

“She won’t.”

“If Brad—”

“He won’t.”

“How can you expect me to keep something like that from my husband?”

“Because you have to.” I stand. “Look, we’re only here for another night. Then, when we leave, you can tell Brad all about Dee’s work. I don’t want to upset Ma while I’m here. These days, it’s looking like it’s not taking much to get her to fall off the wagon.”

Lucy’s stare daggers to the side, then to the floor.

“Yeah,” I say. “Has Brad noticed her drinking, too?”

---