Page 22 of Songbird
Her brows draw in and I explain in a rush. “I know that sounds horrible and I don’t mean it to be. I’m not accusing you of anything, but I’ve been betrayed by the most important person in my life and I’m not sure I trust my own judgment.” I glance at Violet’s hand between mine. “When it comes to human connection, I’m a little bruised.”
Violet squeezes my fingers. “I understand. I wasn’t great at friendships until I met Chord’s sisters, but I’m trying to be better. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but if it would make you more comfortable, I can share a little about me first.”
“Yes,” I say. “I’d love to know more about you, Violet. You can trust me.”
She smiles and gives my hand a final squeeze before she draws hers back so she can tuck them between her knees.
“My mom left when I was two years old, and to this day I don’t know where she is.” The way Violet says it, like it’s just a factof life, mirrors the way I feel about my own abandonment and sparks an instant sense of kinship. “My dad has depression and I worry about him every day. Last year, when word got out that I was dating Chord, people on social media called me a gold-digging opportunist with no talent. And when I decided to build a career on my own and design for a fashion house in Milan, it was the worst mistake I ever made. I was alone and heartbroken in a foreign country. I thought I’d lost it all.”
“But you hadn’t,” I guess.
Violet’s smile reaches warm brown eyes lit up with memories. “No. I had friends who saw through my brave face and a man who loved me enough to fly halfway around the world just to bring me back. And I did have talent—talent that allowed me to make my dreams come true on my own terms.” She squirms a little before she adds, “Just as soon as I could admit to myself that those terms had evolved along with the rest of me.”
“I think I know what you mean,” I reply. “I’ve been in this business since I was eighteen years old and the things that were important then aren’t so important anymore. I met Chip when I was twenty-one, and I’ve always relied on him for everything. He told me what I wanted and made all the plans for how to get it. It’s come to the point where I can’t tell the difference between his desires and my own. It’s like I lost myself.”
“How did you meet Chip?” Violet asks.
I roll my eyes at how cliché it sounds. “He introduced himself at an industry party. My record label had dropped me the year before, and I was trying to reestablish myself as a viable artist, but in reality, I was alone and adrift. Chip was smart and suave and sexy, older than me, and an important name. I thought he knew it all, so when he offered to be my manager, it seemed like all my problems were solved.” I fidget with the hem of my shirt. “Our relationship didn’t turn romantic for another six months,and when it did, I felt lucky. I lost count of the women who threw themselves at him, and there he was, choosingme.”
“I can imagine that would be intoxicating, especially in your line of work.”
“That’s a good way to describe it,” I agree. “I had no family and no real friends, and I was almost drugged by his attention. I never had to beg him to take an interest in my life. Chipwasmy life. He managed everything. From my career to my money to my body to my wardrobe to my security team to my publicist. My personal assistant.” I shake my head and wrap my arms around my middle to stop a shiver. “I interpreted his behavior as acts of love. It took me too long to realize it was about control.”
I close my eyes to dispel the shame and open them again, determined to finally say out loud the things I’ve been too scared to even think. “There are two sides to Chip. He’s charming and charismatic and generous, but he’s also intolerant and short-tempered, impatient and unforgiving, and he hates being challenged. I learned quickly to go along with whatever he wanted. It was easier than enduring days of the silent treatment or apologizing for things I did wrong. He wanted what was best for me, right? He was smarter than me, wasn’t he? He loved me, so of course I should trust him. If I had any sense, I’d let him do the thinking and save my energy for what I did best. Songwriting. Singing. Performing.” I shrug and try to pretend the shame doesn’t hollow me out. “Eventually I stopped questioning him, even in my own head. I didn’t want to fight that battle with my heart anymore.”
“When did you start to see things differently?” Violet asks gently.
I scrub my face and laugh quietly. I have to or else I’ll fall apart. “About a year ago. Chip booked an entire world tour for my latest album, and it sold out in arenas everywhere. I’d been working for years to get to that moment. It was supposed to bethe highlight of my career… and Chip wasn’t going to be there. I know that sounds spoiled. He had a career and a life, and he couldn’t be on the road with me every night and for every show, but he had no plans to be thereat all. We were going to be separated for six months and he didn’t care. He handed me a schedule and told me that everyone on the tour—everyone—would be his eyes and ears while I was gone, and for the first time, I didn’t hear that as love. I heard it as control. As a threat. The message was clear: if I stepped out of line, Chip would find out about it. Never in my life have I felt more like a commodity, or less like a human, or so lonely and insignificant.”
“I’m sorry, Rosalie. That sounds incredibly difficult.”
“It was, but it also fired me up.” I feel the warmth of that old courage, and I fight to hold on to it. “I thoughtscrew him. I’m a grown woman. I can take charge of my life. Everything he built was all because ofme. My voice. My music. My name. I decided he needed me more than I needed him, and that’s when I hired Finn as my bodyguard. Chip was fuming when he found out, and I don’t know where I found the will to defy him. Maybe it was because he was on the other side of the country instead of in the same room. I told him I wanted an ex-military man on my team and unless he could find someone more qualified, the person I hired wasn’t going anywhere.”
“Good for you.” Violet shakes her head with wonder. “That must have taken a lot of courage.”
“Or naivety,” I say, still disappointed by how short-lived my rebellion turned out to be. “I realized while I was away that I didn’t love Chip anymore, if I ever really had. I’d just made the decision to leave him altogether, break all ties personally and professionally, but then…”
Violet drops her head to the side. “But then… what?”
“There was an… incident.” I stumble over the word, and when the memory passes, I carry on like it didn’t almost drag meunder. “Chip flew out to meet me in Louisiana and decided Finn was to blame for everything. He fired him on the spot, and after what happened, I was too fragile to stop him. All my energy went into my shows, and life offstage passed by in a fog.” I recall that time with sadness, regret, and not a small amount of rage. “I didn’t see it at the time, but when I look back now, I think Chip liked me that way. Weak and dependent. He grew strong on my weakness.”
Violet shakes her head sadly. “You didn’t deserve that type of treatment.”
I shrug to say I’m not sure that’s true. If I were a more confident woman, Chip would never have gained that kind of power in the first place.
“After that, all the reasons Chip couldn’t tour with me miraculously disappeared,” I go on. “He followed me around the world for the next four months, and I let him. It was all I could do to finish the tour, and by the time it was done, I had a diamond on my finger and a wedding date on the books. If I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t remember saying yes to either of those things, but I also don’t remember saying no. My therapist called it disassociation.”
“Oh, Rosalie. I’m so proud of you for finding a way out of that situation, but… how?” Violet narrows her eyes as she studies my face. “Something changed yesterday, didn’t it? At my studio.”
Movement at the window catches our attention, and we look over to see Finn staring in through the glass. His eyes are on me and me alone. Steady. Certain. Determined.
“The picture of Finn on my wall,” Violet guesses with sudden understanding. “That’s what changed. You saw Finn in that photograph, and you ran straight to him.”
Through the window looking out onto the porch, I meet Finn’s unwavering gaze. His lips move in conversation with whoever’son the other end of the phone. “I saw him and remembered how I felt for those two months he was in my life.”
Violet glances at Finn again. “And how was that?” she asks quietly.
“In control,” I reflect quietly. “Strong. Safe. Like I knew myself again.”
