“I knocked to make sure she was alright. She was, and she wasn’t. I cared enough about her self-destruction to remind her I’d been there if she needed a lifeline.”
The doctor came and went. Dillon went back to minding his business.
“A few nights later, Kylie was on the bus after a show. I told her what time we were leaving, hoping to jog her memory before she went wherever she was going. She said she was staying in. That’s when I noticed the upended bottles in the sink and the empty prescription bottles in the trash can.
“Don’t worry,”she said,“I flushed them.”
She needed a distraction.
“So, I stayed and talked that night. Showed up the next one. Then, she was always on the bus before me. I thought… I thought the woman was playing me, you know? Telling me stuff about her private life and asking about mine. Next thing we knew, Kylie was a month sober. We’d spent nearly all of those thirty late nights together.”
That was when things went too far.
“She avoided me afterwards. Never being impolite. But our talks dried up.”
Dillon tells me he offered to be her sponsor, but Kylie felt guilty.
“She said she took advantage of me while I was trying to help her, and she found someone else. It wasn’t a lie.”
Chapter Forty-three
ISAIAH
The deep creases in Monty’s furrowed brow when I escort Dillon out ask questions I’m unable to answer. My addled brain can scarcely register he’s pulled a seat into the hallway and stayed out there for hours.
I turn, sluggish and spent, ignoring the pity in my security guy’s eyes, and let Monty shut the door. It’s part of his job.
I don’t like that Dillon has me rethinking my friendships with my employees, but I feel bamboozled. I’m not sure what to believe anymore.
Dillon’s broken bread at my table. Indulged in Cassidy’s hospitality toward the entire road crew, and taken advantage of how much she enjoys cooking for whomever steps upon the bus.
I allowed Dillon access to the intricacies of our life. Kylie always said he was a great driver. And he is.
But no wonder my wife sung his praises.
He’s also the biological father of a little girl Kylie left me on my own to raise. A child I’ve come to think of as mine, whose hand I wanted to hold since the Cavanaughs showed me what family was all about.
Good god, when I’ve thought about Cassidy’s and my wedding day, I’ve pondered what it’s like to be old and gray and walk the bride down the aisle. What pointless musings. Aria has a father. Dillon will do the honors.
In the next twenty years, he’ll be the man she relies on to patch up her scraped knees and she’ll call him daddy.
Not me.
It wasn’t ever supposed to be you.
Except, I’ve grown attached and the truth has carved a hollow spot where my heart was.
I don’t throw myself on the couch as much as my legs get weak. As if I’m about to pass out, I fall into the overwhelming sensation. My knees give way and I collapse onto the leftmost cushion and sag into the pillows. The thick stuffing holds my head up. I pinch my throbbing temples. If I squeeze hard enough maybe my brain will explode. Maybe I’ll wake up and find this nightmare over.
I flick off the lamp on the side table. Ambient light from the city below drapes the living area in swaths of blue.
Today was long and exhausting before we stepped onto the red carpet. Yet, it was already tomorrow when Cassidy and I returned. We wanted to see that our sleeping angel was safe in her portable crib. Practice making another before grabbing some shut-eye. And wake to the sunshine and birdsong, ready for our family outing. We were taking Aria to the zoo.
I’ve thought about bringing the engagement ring just about everywhere and dropping to one knee. But I didn’t want the memory tied to last night, or a day we had planned for Aria. Cassidy deserves to know a proposal is all about her and what she’s brought to my life.
I also can’t face a crowd today. I lack the patience for signing autographs and posing for selfies when I’m out with my girls, anyway.
And maybe without Aria completing our trio, Cassidy won’t want me. Maybe that’s why she’s never given me a firm “yes” when I bring up our future.