I always told myself,Well, at least he’s always honest with me.
But now I can’t even say that. Maybe it shouldn’t be such a big deal. Not like it was a huge lie. He probably justified his actions by telling himself that he was only trying to protect me.
But he still lied.
There’s a soft knock on the door, a reminder that I have a show to do, and I need to pull myself together.
I want to scream, and I want to break down and cry an ocean of tears, but I don’t have that luxury right now. I have to perform tonight, and I refuse to give my fans anything less than my very best.
So I rein it in, shove all my emotions deep inside and do the only thing I can do—square my shoulders, hold my head high, and walk out the door with my broken heart and a mountain of baggage in tow.
Dean and Chris are talking in the hallway but as soon as they see me, they stop talking. When they turn to face me, I know exactly what I need to do.
I don’t want to see Noah’s lying face or listen to his attempts to justify what he did.
I look at Dean. “He won’t be joining us for the rest of the tour.” I don’t have to say who ‘he’ is. They already know who I’m talking about. “Can you have someone arrange to ship his bags, please?”
My gaze moves to Chris. “If he comes to the arena… don’t let him backstage.”
No one bats an eye or questions it. My tour. My mental health. And ultimately, my decision.
They know how much I love Noah and how much it costs me to send him away, but he left me with no other choice.
“How are you doin’?” Dean asks, the concern in his voice genuine.
I flash him a bright smile. “Hand me my sword. It’s show time.” I stride right past him without stopping to explain my meaning.
I don’t need a white knight with a hero complex to rescue me. I’ll slay my own demons.
I will not crack under pressure. I will rise above, and I will give the best damn performance that I’m capable of.
I am resilient. I am stronger than I know. I am a goddamn warrior.
I allow myself two seconds to feel the pain of betrayal and mourn the loss before shutting it down again, and as the trapdoor rises to the stage, I become Hayley Saint James, the performer.
Unstoppable. Invincible. A force of nature.
My façade only slips a bit when I sing the lyrics of “Slow Dancing on a Starless Night” and then later when I sing Zeke’s song.
I remember the day I first played this tune on my piano.
It was the day Noah left me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Noah
I knewI was fucked even before I reached the arena and was denied entrance. No amount of arguing or pleading with security swayed them.
I bet it was Dean’s fucking idea to keep me out. So I moved on to plan B and tracked down our bus driver who was hanging out with some of the other drivers, playing cards in the back of one of the trucks.
“Not sure if I’m supposed to let you on the bus,” Ed says, eyeing me up and down.
“Come on, Ed,” I cajole. “You know me. Tour videographer. Hayley’sboyfriend.”
He strokes his graying beard, considering. “Not sure that’s still the case from what I’ve heard.”
I laugh like that’s a joke, but I don’t think he’s joking. “It’s just a bit of a rough patch. I need to smooth things over and make it right. We’ve gotten over them before.” I shrug, briefly wondering why I’m explaining this to Hayley’s bus driver. “This time will be no different.”