Page 82 of Heart Strings
“Where I live doesn’t matter as long as I show up when I’m needed. And I’m showing up, aren’t I?”
Martin raises his brows meaningfully. Okay, so maybe it’s not the best reply when I’m already running late to sound check.
I shake my head. “I’m here. Even after I told you I needed time off and you signed me up for this fest without asking first anyway.”
“Need I remind you that you have a matter of weeks until your second album is due?”
“This is my integrity, Martin,” I argue. “I don’t want to make dance music or date celebrities or be treated like a fucking Ken doll. If I don’t believe in the music for the album, I won’t do it.”
“You’re talking career suicide. Meanwhile, I’m doing everything I can to get you on the international map. You’ll thank me later.”
“There’s a line you don’t cross.” Lo is going to think I changed my mind and agreed to be publicly linked with Emma Kinnane without talking to her first.
“Look, we need to be in Central Park in ten minutes,” he reminds me, pushing me out the door.
In the cab, I check my phone for the first time and find a sweet “good morning” text from Lo from hours earlier, asking me to call. I scrub a hand down my face and watch the buildings pass as we approach Central Park. I’ve got to call her, but we’re already running late and this is a conversation I’d rather not have in front of Martin and the driver.
I love her. Lo needs to know I am hers, wholly, unequivocally.Before I lose her all over again. I fire off a text.Running late to sound check but I hope you’re having a good day, babe. I have a meeting with Nigel on Monday! Can’t wait to tell you everything.
What I need to say shouldn’t be sent over a text message. And I don’t want to bring her attention to the gossip situation before I can explain, in case she hasn’t seen it yet. But I hope this message tells her that she’s in my thoughts, no matter how far away I am. When I have good news, she’s the first one I want to share it with.
My stomach twists as the minutes tick by without acknowledgment.
Chapter 32
Lo
“I know whatit looks like, but Emma Kinnane is just a fan who wanted to say hi,” Aidan insists, his face scrunched up on my phone screen. The ocean between us didn’t scare me a few days ago, but after playing phone tag for the last twelve hours, I feel every mile stretching between us.
“The label wanted you to do a PR relationship with her, though.” I scowl at the clock in the nourishment room as it inches toward six. I just want to go home.
I wasn’t expecting to be blindsided by a rumor about Aidan and another woman less than twenty-four hours before my biopsy. Then I couldn’t get ahold of him for hours and doubt festered. From the uncertainty around tomorrow’s procedure to the snide comments my mom sent along with the gossip site links, I’m completely off-kilter. This will come up in every conversation with my mom that so much as mentions Aidan from now until the end of time.
“Lo, I would never humiliate you like that. All that happened was she came up after our set, said she loved the new song,and we took a photo.” Aidan looks deep into my eyes through the camera. “When I say that you’re mine and I’m yours, I mean it. I don’t want the world thinking that I’m with anyone else.”
I want so badly to trust Aidan, but am I going to ignore a massive red flag because I’m scared of losing him—and facing leukemia again on my own?
People will be interested in his love life no matter who he’s with. It comes with the gig and I’d thought I was prepared for that. But how will the fans treat a regular Latina med student who dares date an Irish star? How will I manage if I’m sick and a photo of me is compared against a singer he shares a stage with or a celebrity he brushes elbows with at an event? Can he stay attracted to me if he’s surrounded by beautiful fans on the road, and I’m bald and bedridden back in Galway? The stethoscope around my neck, a gift from my dad, serves as a reminder that not everyone can handle the stress of loving someone who’s sick. Instead of responding to Aidan’s declaration when I’m feeling so uncertain, I change the subject.
“How are you feeling about the meeting with Nigel tomorrow?”
“Shitting bricks,” he answers. “After tonight’s set, the band and I are going to squeeze in a last-minute demo recording. Martin found a studio willing to rent out to us on short notice.”
My brows pinch. He’s barely slept since arriving in New York.
“Aidan, I know this meeting is huge, but I just want you to know that you’re enough on your own. Your music touches people. The more I listen to the album, the more things I find to love—”
Oisín bursts through the door of the nourishment room.“They’re doing a lateral canthotomy in room 206. We need you over there right now.”
“Sorry, I have to go.” I frown down at Aidan’s face on my screen. How can this work when we have to steal every moment together? “You’re ready for this.”
If only I felt ready for what’s ahead of me.
I tuck acake under my arm and head toward the register. Yes, a whole cake becausescrew it. After a busy shift in the A&E, I’d called Aidan again to complete our conversation but he didn’t answer. We hadn’t even managed to say goodbye to each other, much lessI love you. Is that how the divide starts, being too busy to say three words? Frustrated, I dragged myself to the supermarket as the streetlamps flickered to life.
All day, my mom has been texting me about the yearly oncologist appointment. I’ve been ignoring her, but it must look like I’m so upset about our conversation about Aidan that I refuse to speak to her. In reality, I don’t know how to truthfully answer without sending her into a complete meltdown, so I haven’t answered at all.
Each message escalates from the last. Guilt needles me as I read them. First, the lecture about how important monitoring is. And then she laid into me about Aidan. How it will never work and I know it. Better to know this about him now than before I really get attached. Yeah, too late for that. Each of her texts gives a megaphone to my internal doubts. The one that sent me to Tesco in search of a comforting confection just read,He’ll leave you. They always do.
