Page 21 of Return To You

One fucking year….

I have gone one year, 365 days, 8760 hours without seeing her, without hearing her voice, and the pictures and videos on my phone that I just can’t seem to get myself to delete haunt me.

A whole fucking year since I walked away without hearing her side of things, my anger overpowering me.

My mom has called several fucking times a day, asking if maybe how it looked was wrong, making me question myself, and I haven’t wanted to hear it.

If Mom brings her up now, I hang up because, honestly, it doesn’t matter whether the picture was how it looked or not; I still walked away without questioning her, which has made me question whether I truly did love her or if it was just my teenage brain making me think I did.

I mean, I wouldn’t have left the way I did otherwise, right?

Yet, she’s all I think about….

“Alright, we’ll finalize these dates, and eight months from now, your final show of the tour will be in your hometown,” our manager, Alan, says, snapping me out of my head.

I glare at Barnett, knowing this shit was his doing, and he took advantage while I fucking zoned out.

He just shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest, not bothered, but he fucking will be when I knock him out; he and Cameron both know I don’t want to go home.

Barnett never believed the picture and begged me to call her to get answers, but the hurt I felt at the time clouded my judgment, and I left. Cameron, on the other hand, believed it and told me to hook up with Piper as punishment, the same fucking Piper who followed us to LA after graduating high school last week.

She’s turned into a roadie and won’t leave me the fuck alone. Cameron keeps encouraging her, believing I’d give in sooner or later, thinking it’s something I need to do with Rose being my only, but I know I won’t.

Despite her maybe cheating on me, the thought of allowing another girl to touch me makes me physically sick.

Shaking my head as the suits leave, I stand, ready to follow them out, needing a distraction, but before I can make two steps, Barnett opens his fucking mouth.

“Let me guess, you’re going to grab a smoke, then drink yourself stupid while pretending like you mustn’t have loved her if you left without getting an explanation to help ease your guilt?”

I internally groan, fed up hearing the same shit from him, and snap, “Give it a rest Barnett,” as I head to the door.

Just as I was going through it, he shouted, "You were scared of how painful it felt seeing that photo, Noah. You reacted without thinking, hoping to save yourself from the pain, but all you did was clarify the fact that you needed her!”

I ignore his words and carry on walking.

I haven’t saved myself from shit, I’m fucking drowning, and he knows it.

Ignoring everyone around in the halls, I head outside for a smoke, needing an outlet. I know I could go to the studio and play, but knowing my luck, Piper will be there waiting.

Why she thought I’d fucking accept her here, I don’t know, but if she doesn’t fuck off soon, I’m going to go nuclear, especially after the other day when she decided to lick my fucking neck in front of the paparazzi.

I don’t need any reminders of Rose, and she’s a big fucking one.

It’s bad enough that I have Rose’s initial tattooed on my arm and her name on my ring finger.

I’ve booked to have them covered several times, but I can’t make myself go through with it. Instead, I end up adding more fucking roses.

It’s pathetic.

Sighing, I lean my back against the wall as soon as I get outside. I grab my smoke from behind my ear, place it between my lips, and light it.

Instantly, I inhale and relax, the nicotine doing its job.

A whole fucking year, and I still can’t breathe….

I know I should have confronted her instead of walking away like I did, and now I have to live with my decision. It’s about time Barnett realizes there’s no going back now because, overall, it was probably for the best.

Placing my foot flat against the wall and bending my knee, I look down at my wrist as I flick the ash off my cigarette. The silver chain bracelet from Rose, matching the one around my neck, feels heavy.

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