Page 80 of Poetry By Dead Men
Closing my computer, I stretch away the painful memories that inspired this particular chapter—the last one I wrote so many years ago. Even after rereading the entire thing twice, I still don’t know how to continue it.
Is it a happy ending?
Or do I go with the truth?
Bobby’s eyebrows furrow, and he tilts his head in thought.
“What word are you looking for over there?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I don't know," he says, tossing down his pen. I don't ask to see what he's writing, and he doesn’t offer.
Without a doubt, he's working through his feelings with a pen and paper, just like I am.
“Coffee?” he asks, his voice gruff, and even though we're parked for the night and I really should be going to bed soon, I nod.
"One more won't hurt," I say as he makes his way to the espresso machine. The way he moves is so familiar to me, it’s unsettling. I’velearned him so thoroughly again the past couple months that I already know he's going to tap the portafilter against his palm four times before inserting it into the machine. That his hands will go straight into his pockets as soon as it starts brewing.
As he does exactly that, I look away, shaking my head. I have no business knowing him so well. Not when I still haven’t been able to confront our past. Not when I don’t know the entirety of the truth of what broke us.
Bobby’s phone rings as the espresso starts to drip, and he answers. “Marissa, what's—” he pauses. “All right. Yeah. Send it to me,” he says, hanging up the phone. His shoulders are tight when he turns to face me.
“What's going on?” I ask, nerves buzzing in my stomach.
Bobby crosses his arms. “Before I tell you this, I want you to know that it doesn't matter. I'm not concerned.”
“What is it Bobby?” I stand, clenching my hands into fists to keep them from shaking. “What has Harrison done?”
Bobby presses his lips together as if he doesn’t want to have to tell me that whatever happened has to do with Harrison, but I already know. His demeanor has completely changed from the calm, comfortable man writing a song next to me to a protector preparing for battle, muscles tense and armor on.
He sighs. “Someone went to the tabloids and sold them a story about me having an affair with my lawyer's fiancée.”
Fury seethes in my blood. I knew he’d do everything he could to makemelook bad and ruin my reputation, but I’d accepted that risk when I chose to end things. What I didn't expect was for him to go after Bobby. Not when signing him to their firm is getting him everything he ever wanted in his career.
“Doesn't that make him look bad? I mean, you're his client! I thought he’d keep you out of it to save his own reputation.”
Bobby rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah. About that… I’m not his client. I pulled out of the deal.”
My stomach plummets. “Bobby. You didn’t.” That was his only protection. The only reason I thought Harrison would aim his ire toward me. Hejusthad a deal fall through, and look at how that made him behave. If he lost an even bigger one…
I stop myself from finishing that thought, a shiver running down my spine.
Bobby's jaw bunches. “After how he spoke to you? I absolutely did.” He lifts his chin as if daring me to argue with him.
I start to pace. “You've just given him all the ammo he needs to ruin your reputation. He’ll lie. He’ll sayanythinghe can to make himself look better,” I say, pulling out my phone to look up the story.
Bobby grabs my hands, and electricity surges from his skin into mine. He lowers my phone, then lifts my chin so that I’m looking directly into his eyes.
“I’m not worried about it. People know who I am. Besides, it was only a matter of time before everyone figured out who you were. I'm not concerned about a tabloid rumor.”
“But they're saying we'retogether.”
Bobby pulls away, putting his hands in his pockets, but doesn't say anything.
“What?” I ask, my voice shaking.
“Would that be the worst thing? For people to think we're together?”
I close my eyes, trying to block out the pain his words pull from my bones.
