Page 21 of Sweet Escape

“I didn’t think I would be. I ...” The words are like tar on my tongue. “I caught Theo cheating, and I decided I needed to get out of town for a little while.”

He makes a sympathetic noise. “I’m sorry to hear that, Viv.”

“It’s been a lot, and I wanted a break. From everything.” Then a thought occurs to me. “I’m visiting Murphy, though. So it’s not completely unrelated to work.”

Murphy is an incredibly talented songwriter and is responsible for several of the songs we’re considering for my album. She also writes music for my label, Humble Roads, so it isn’t totally outside the realm of work-related travel for me to be here, even if writing with Murphy hadn’t actually been the original plan. But Todd doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh! Well, tell her I said hello. You guys planning to write while you’re up there?”

I nod, then remember he can’t see me. “Yeah. Yes, we’re meeting up tonight, actually.”

A lie right now, but something I can turn into the truth if I reach out to my friend like I had already planned to do.

“Great. Listen, if you’re really working, I guess it’s not such a big deal for us not to meet. We can handle the priority list over the phone. Maybe next week?”

“That would be great, Todd. I just got here yesterday, so coming home right now ... I’d really like a chance to take a break and focus on myself.” I pause. “And my work, of course.”

“I get it. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Sounds good.”

“Talk soon.”

We get off the phone, and I drop it crankily on the table.

It never even occurred to me that I might be blindsided by my manager wanting an in-person meeting. I’d assumed that fitting in this last-minute trip right before I go into the studio would be a chance for me to spend two weeks writing and fully purging myself of Theo so that when I get back, I’m prepared.

I’m glad I don’t have to fly back to LA just yet. I don’t want to have to face the reality of returning home to a condo that is now tainted with the memory of what I saw.

And I definitely don’t want to have to go into the studio and bare my soul without getting a chance to sort through some things in my mind. Because I’ll have to sing those few songs that were written about a man who ripped my life apart, before he did. That music was written about someone I thought I loved. A man I thought lovedme.

Though I doubt that was ever really true.

I collect my shit and tuck it into my purse, then begin the short walk back to the Firehouse, my mind scattered and unfocused.

It’s normal to rethink everything after a breakup. I think most people do. There’s a place your mind goes to after you realize you’re not going to be with someone for forever, after you realize they’re not at all who you thought they were.

Every action is scrutinized.

Every word recounted.

Every mistake rehashed.

Suddenly, the most important thing in the world is figuring out all the ways that you were never truly compatible. Because the real terror is realizing the person you thought was your soulmateisn’t.

Though even as I think it, I know the words aren’t true.

I never thought Theo was my soulmate. I’m not even sure I believe in such a thing.

He was a man who I connected with.

Physically, sometimes.

Emotionally, on occasion.

Apart from decent sex, though, toward the end of our relationship, it felt like we were existing around each other and nothing more. We had overlapping friends, a condo we shared, and the same taste in music, but I’m pretty sure that’s it.

And being with someone forever simply because you both enjoy jamming out to a shared playlist as you get ready for work in the morning doesnota relationship make.

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