Page 81 of I Would Die for You

There are only two pages, so whatever he has to say, it’s not much. But as I start to read, I’m immediately aware that the weight of his words more than make up for the weight of the paper.

Dearest Nicole,

I couldn’t leave this world without telling you how sorry I am for the decisions I made when I was here. The consequences of my actions have followed me for my entire life—losing you as a daughter has certainly been the most costly.

All I ever wanted to do was protect my girls—and if you’re now a mother yourself, you’ll understand that.

Being a parent is tough, and although I didn’t always get it right, I want you to know that I never stopped loving you, and truly believed that we’d see each other one last time. But if you’re reading this, I guess that didn’t happen, so this is my final chance to say what needs to be said.

There isn’t a day that’s gone by when I haven’t thought about Ben, and what I did to him. If I could turn back the clock, believe me, I would, but in a moment of madness, I made a terrible mistake for which I have never been able to forgive myself. And I don’t expect you to forgive me now. But I need you to know why I did it, because to go to my grave without telling you would be even more indefensible than the act itself…

I read on, because I have to, but the words have all jumbled themselves up so that nothing he says is making any sense. I close my eyes, forcing deep breaths in and out in an effort to stay calm, but my heart is racing and I feel so instantaneously sick that I have to rush to open the back door. I can’t breathe, my lungs only half filling before collapsing again as I remember Ben—his smoldering eyes staring out at me from behind his guitar, that stomach-churning excitement that set my skin alight when he held me in his arms, the smell of him, even the thrill of the secret we were hiding in those sweet short weeks when we dared to believe it was going to be forever.

Bitter injustice rips through me and, as I fall to my knees, I vow to do what I should have done twenty-five years ago: tell the truth.

42

LONDON, 1986

The press conference for Secret Oktober’s surprise announcement is being held in the ballroom of the Savoy hotel, and Cassie sneaks in the back door behind Amelia, after her friend works her usual magic on their security guard.

There are only a few seats left, and they sidle up behind a journalist with a mass of curly hair, hoping that she’ll disguise their presence.

“You sure you want to do this?” Amelia whispers.

Cassie nods as the microphone gets tapped with a dull thud.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming,” comes a voice through the speaker, hushing the crowded room. “May I please ask you to put your hands together and give a warm welcome to Secret Oktober—Luke, Michael, and Ben…”

There’s a smattering of applause and Cassie is grateful for the dimming of the audience lights. It means she can hide for a little while longer, though in any case the spotlight is quickly cast upon the boys as they make their way across the stage.

Cassie knew that seeing Ben would twist a knife deep within her soul, the depth of his and Nicole’s deceit hitting her full in the chest. But it’s the visceral reaction she has upon seeing Michael that takes her unaware. Her mouth dries up and her hands begin to tremble as he looks out across the sea of heads with a smile of self-satisfaction.

“Welcome to the hottest ticket in town,” he says sarcastically as he takes his seat next to Ben behind the table on the stage. The pair of them don’t even look at each other.

“Good to see you all,” says Luke. “We’re excited to be here.”

The questions from the press come thick and fast, mostly about Ben’s supposed indiscretion in America. Watching his face flicker between panic and resignation pulls at the back of Cassie’s throat.

“We won’t be making any comment on what’s gone before,” says Luke.

Ben’s face glazes over, as if he’s a thousand miles away.

“Yeah, this is about new beginnings,” says Michael, smiling like a cat who’s got the cream as he looks along the line at his bandmates without a shred of conscience. “We’re going on tour—the biggest tour the world has ever seen…”

Cassie can’t bear to look at him; even his voice makes her shudder.

“But what about Ben’s drug problem?” calls a journalist. “Shouldn’t he be going to rehab instead of embarking on a world tour?”

“Look, Ben’s addressed his issues and he’s got the help he needed,” says Michael, patting Ben’s back in a manner so condescending that even Luke, normally placid and unbiased, looks on nervously.

“So, the rumors that this press conference was to announce the band’s breakup are unfounded?” asks another journalist.

“Absolutely,” says Michael, before Ben can even open his mouth. “I don’t know where you get these stories from.”

“I heard there was trouble in paradise,” says the journalist. “That you two weren’t getting on so well these days.”

Michael kisses his teeth. “We’re brothers, man. There ain’t nothing that can tear us apart.”

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