Page 60 of Out of the Blue

It’s me pulling her in for a hug this time. “I’m happy you’re back in my life, Auntie.”

“Me too.”

When we break apart and rejoin her family, Cordy catches my eye. Without words, she asks if I’m okay, and I nod. For the first time in a long time, things seem to be going pretty freaking well.

Braxton’s voice sails through the green room, and I amend my thoughts. My life is getting back to a more even keel, but it’ll never be right.

He got my mother pregnant and left her to fend for herself. I know how these things go, however. Now, hookups after every concert are easy to come by, and I can only imagine how much more so back in the wild nineties.

Auntie had it right, though. It was one thing for Mom not to tell him about me, and a very different thing for her to keep the secret from me. Not only that, but to affirmatively lie to me about Rory Chamberlain. I could’ve been brought up with a much bigger family, surrounded by a brother and a sister. Or, at least, the truth. My body goes taut.

Raine walks into the room. “Hey, guys, Hunte has one more song. We’re going to be doing a meet-and-greet for them here, so if you want to move over to your dressing room until it’s over, that’ll be great.”

We grab our stuff and start moving out. No way do I want to even be in the same room as my sperm donor.

Auntie Gloria’s family approaches. She says, “I think we’re going to get going, Trenton, er, Trent. We’re very proud of you.”

I share hugs with my family and escort them to the exit, then return to the dressing room. Cordy shows me some of the photos she took backstage. “Your aunt, uncle, and cousins are wonderful.”

“Yeah. I’m glad we reconnected. Thanks to you.”

My girlfriend smiles at me while scrolling through her camera roll. “I think your fans are going to especially love this one.”

She shows me a picture of my aunt hugging me, her face beaming with pride. My breath stills as I absorb her similarity to my mother.They’re different people, Trent. Very different. Despite everything, I’m so lucky she’s back in my life. I now know she always was on my side.

Inside the new, smaller room, my band takes up all the furniture. I stand off to the side with Cordy. “Being Mom’s twin, they shared everything. Until they didn’t, that is.”

She cocks her head to one side. “You truly forgive her for not getting in touch with you all these years?”

Calmness overtakes my body. “Auntie tried. She also tried to get Mom to reach out to Braxton. But back then it wasn’t so easy to contact rock stars as it is today.” I point at her phone. “Now, anyone can PM me and get my attention.”

“Or your social media manager’s attention.” She bumps my shoulder.

I fill her in on all the new details I learned today.

“I’m sorry things ended up this way.” She kisses my cheek. “But look where you are now. Maybe you can fully ease your burden by telling Braxton.”

All my ire toward my mother resurfaces in an instant. My limbs tighten to an excruciating level. “It was her story to tell him.” I remember the deep ridges in her diary as she confessed everything. Her pain was palpable. But nothing compares with mine. “Braxton probably doesn’t even remember her. He was a real manwhore back in the day.”

“Maybe.” She clucks. “Do you remember all your groupies?”

I refuse to look at the stranger before me. In a tight voice, I reply, “Yes, I do. I wasn’t a saint before we met, but I made a connection with every woman I’ve ever fucked, thank you very much.” I’m nothing like my father.

She flinches. “I didn’t mean anything untoward.”

Air expels from my nose faster than a guitar string breaking. “I know exactly what you meant, Cordelia.” I deliberately use her full name. “I survived this long without having a father. I certainly don’t need one now.”

Her arm reaches out toward me, but I step back. “It might help you, if you told him.”

“Help me?” Fists form. “I don’t need any help.”

“I think—"

Buzzing in my ears forces me to clench my teeth. “Stop. I don’t need your pity, either.”

“Trent, no. That’s not what I meant.”

Before she continues, the audience screams Hunte’s name, signaling the end of the concert. Even this far away from the backstage area, their excitement at listening to a Hunte concert is unmistakable. My breathing bottoms out. “I’ve already forgiven my aunt and her family. That’s friggin’ enough.”

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