Page 66 of Mayhem

LET ME LEAVE

BRAD

Sleep was not my friend last night. I spent most of the time doom scrolling on my phone, reading every horrible thing the internet had to say about me. It’s a humbling experience to say the least. Needless to say, my playboy image is fully intact thanks to Sierra and Gina. If I needed anything to confirm my decision to end things with Tess was the right thing to do, that was it. She has no business getting involved with someone like me.

I drag my ass to rehearsal, as close to being fashionably late as possible, dreading seeing Tess in person, and even more so Charlie. I’m not in the mood to deal with more pain and disappointment. I have enough of my own, thanks.

When I walk in, however, there’s no Tess, but Charlie comes barreling into me for an excited hug. She chatters on about her surprise sleepover last night, and I nod and comment where I can, but all I’m feeling is anxiety. Seeing her so happy right now is killing me, because I know I’m going to have to ruin that for her. Something I’ve apparently become very good at.

When she finally talks herself out of breath, she yanks on my shirt, her wide gray eyes equally anxious. “Did you talk to Tess, Daddy? Did you tell her that you’re sorry?”

Fucking hell. I can’t do this right now.

“We’ll talk about it later baby girl, okay?” I smooth a stray lock of curly hair from her face.

“But did you guys make up?”

“I said later.” I’m trying to be firm without being an asshole. That’s the goal, right? Be an asshole to everyone but Charlie?

“Mr. Summer said that Tess is at the office today, so she won’t be here. I just wanted to see-”

“Not now, Charlotte.” It’s too harsh. Too mean. And I know it the instant I say it. I’m caught between relief and disappointment that I won’t see Tess. It’s fucked up.

Her expression melts from hopefulness to sadness, and my heart squeezes. The gazes of everyone else in the space bore into my back, obviously reacting to my harsh tone. Even over the loud music pumping through the room, everyone could probably hear me. I’m already failing at not being a dick to my own daughter, when that was the one thing I swore I wouldn’t do.

Fuck me, I can’t do anything right.

I squat down to her level, looking her in the eyes. She deserves to know the truth, but not right now. There’s a time and place for this discussion, and it’s not here at this moment.

“Sweetie, I did talk to Tess last night, and I’ll tell you all about it later. But right now, I need to get to work, okay?”

I silently pray that I can get through this fucking day without losing my shit. And without losing my daughter. She’s going to hate me when she finds out what I’ve done, but she can’t understand all of it.

Her gaze drops, and she’s chewing on a thumb nail nervously, rocking a little from foot to foot. She’s not the most patient of little girls. In fact, she normally has zero patience, and is still in an instant gratification phase. When she wants something, she wants it NOW. Waiting to talk about this is going to drive her batty until it happens, but it can’t be helped.

“Okay…” she finally says quietly, then twirls on a heel and heads back to Hayley and June in the corner.

Disaster averted. For now.

Ian comes over and pats my shoulder. “You doing alright there? You look a little completely exhausted.”

I shake my head and smirk. “A little completely? Sounds about right.”

“Well, we’ll make it a short day today. Then maybe you can get some rest and, I don’t know, change clothes?” He gives me a once over, and it’s then that I realize that I’m wearing the same shit as yesterday. I just fucking rolled out of bed and into the car to come here, not even thinking about it.

I glance down at myself, more to avoid his gaze than anything else. “Well, fuck. Yeah…that might be a good idea.”

“No worries,” Ian chuckles. “We’ll get you sorted.”

Sorted. What a polite way to say, ‘get your shit together.’ Leave it to a Brit to say that in the nicest possible way.

He’s not wrong, though. I definitely need to get fucking sorted.

I’m able to get us home after rehearsal without incident, as Charlie’s still prattling on about a joke that Hayley told earlier in the day. I’m half paying attention, and half lost in my own thoughts.

Practice was a fucking disaster. I kept missing cues, fucking up words, and just generally was a horrible mess. I couldn’t concentrate for shit. And when we got to Dakota’s new song, I nearly lost it. The words hit me differently today, they hit home. Straight in the fucking heart. I barely got through it. Nobody said anything about any of it, but I could tell from the sideways glances they were making, thoughts were being had.

I’m in the middle of flipping a grilled cheese sandwich for Charlie’s lunch when she perches herself at the kitchen table, hands knotted together like she’s about to give a speech.

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