Page 65 of Rock Strong

Her muscles began tightening all around me, gripping my cock and making me insane. She cried out, closing her eyes, turning her head. I let go, too, and together, we rode wave after wave of release until our panting subsided. With what little strength we had left, we held each other up for support.

It took a moment, but then I felt it. Sobbing against my shoulder. Her whole body slumped against me. “You were never part of the plan.” She shook her head. Hot tears seeped through my shirt.

“You were never part of my plan either, love.” I held her face in two hands, peering into her eyes. “But that’s okay.”

“No.” Abby looked like her whole world was imploding on her. Collecting herself, she pushed me away, picked up her panties and put them on, averting her eyes to the walls, the cello, the window—looking at anything but me. “Just, please go, Liam. You don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” I said. “I see us as the start of something beautiful. I want to see how we develop, Ab. My parents spent less time together at the beginning than we have, and look how long they’ve been together. It’s either there or it isn’t, and I know it’s there for us. But…” I threw my hands up. “I can’t make you see it.”

Putting myself back together, I stood there, waiting for her to realize that we were perfect for each other.

“Abby, I didn’t use a condom. And we’ve never...that is, I’m clean…”

“I am too. And I’m on the pill. So you don’t have to worry.”

I wasn’t worried about her getting pregnant. Fuck, right now, part of me would celebrate it. A child would tie us together forever. But while forever was what I wanted with Abby, I wanted it to be her choice. Her decision to trust me. Her inability, to despite all the hurt and anger, to let me go.

I didn’t want to give up hope. Maybe she would come around. Maybe I could keep trying to convince her after I left, got back on the road, slogged through the shows and my life. With some time, she could see what I saw.

We stared at each other a moment, and I thought maybe more words were building in a wave against her lips, and she was waiting for them to spill, but she simply went over to her cello and started packing it up along with sheet music, rosin, bow, and other scattered things. I wouldn’t be convincing her today. It was possible this encounter had simply been an experiment for her, too, and maybe her results wouldn’t be in for a while.

Sighing, I turned to leave then paused. “You know, plans are only to keep you focused,” I said, my hand on the door handle. “Sometimes, new stuff comes into your life, and you have to make room for it or lose it forever. You have to make exceptions for things that enhance your life, Abby. Even if they weren’t in your plans to begin with.”

Her back was turned, her silhouette against the lit windowpane outlining the most beautiful girl I’d ever known. Even if she didn’t want me, my opinion of her would never change. You don’t think I’ll enhance your life, do you? I wanted to ask. That’s the problem.

My mother always told me not to ask questions that might have answers I didn’t want to hear, so I kept quiet.

I walked up to her one last time, kissed her cheek, and whispered. “I love you.”

Picking up the pieces of my shattered heart, scattered all over the floor by the woman I loved, I tucked them into my pocket with the rest of my worldly belongings and got the fuck out of there.

Chapter 23

Abby

Most kids probably never dreamed of having lunch by the fountain at Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts on the Upper West Side. But facing Avery Fisher Hall with the satisfaction of knowing that I might work there someday, I did. Then again, I was a freak. When I was little, Ma would bring me here and say that one day, when I was older, I was going to walk into that tall-columned building with my cello case. I was going to play here someday, and that dream solidified into a hard-core goal.

My mother had always shaped my dreams, either consciously championing me, or because I wanted them as badly as she did. So it was no small wonder that, as I sat outside in the Lincoln Center courtyard, I got a text from her asking me to wait before going inside to pick up my audition packet. She had something for me.

The recently vacated position I was auditioning for was Associate Principal Cello, and maybe that was wishful thinking, but I did graduate from Juilliard with top honors, so even if they gave me Back Row You Suck Cello, I wouldn’t care—I’d be IN. And I wanted my mom to be a part of that moment and every other Philharmonic moment.

So I waited.

It was a gorgeous Monday afternoon, with clear skies and a humid breeze blowing off the river, warming my shoulders, but my heart still felt cold. Had I done the right thing? I wanted to stay on my life track, and I wanted to find my own apartment here. Being with Liam could have brought trouble in the future, so yes, for all intents and purposes, I’d done the right thing by cutting him off.

But then…why did I feel so terrible?

Why did I wake up every day with a sinkhole in my heart, opening my eyes to a new day only to remember that Liam’s smile wouldn’t be in it, and that was all because of me?

It’ll take time, I told myself. You’d miss a painting, too, if someone suddenly took it off the wall and moved it.

You can get used to anything not being there, Abby, I reminded myself. Given enough time, I’d get over him. I just needed to stay distracted, which included not looking through recent Point Break concert pics on my phone. I closed my browser.

My mother texted me again: Almost there.

I looked up the sidewalk and waited for her familiar visage. Finally, after a minute, she rounded the corner, toting a little brown bag. Just seeing that little bag made my heart sparkle. Her smile shone just as brightly. She hurried toward me, then we crashed into a big hug.

“I couldn’t let you go in there without this, could I?” She handed the bag to me.

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