Page 67 of Between Never and Forever
“I do love you, but not like that. And you don’t love me like that either.”
I let go of his hand and stand up. For all the bullshit everyone is unfairly placing on me, this one actually is my fault. I used him. I lead him on. I tried to force myself to feel something, tried to pretend, but all it did was ruin him. I’m unmoved, and he’s collapsing.
“You didn’t propose to me because you love me, Torren. You proposed because you’re desperate for a life preserver, and I can’t be that person for you anymore.”
“That’s not true. You know it’s not.”
“It is, though. Itistrue. None of it was real. None of it.”
“It was real for me.”
“It wasn’t for me,” I stress, and he stands and closes the distance.
There’s anger on his attractive face, green eyes filled with rage and heartbreak. I want to reach out and brush his hair off his forehead, but I clench my hands into fists instead.
“I get that you’re tired. I get that Jonah’s overdose fucked with your head. It fucked with mine, too. You want to stay clean. You want to rest.” He takes my hands and holds my gaze. “But I know it was real for you, Savannah. Take your break and film your movie, and then when you come back, you’ll see how real this was.”
I remove my hands from his and step backward.
“I know how I feel, Tor.”
“Do you, though? Because not that long ago, you were excited to write our next album. We stayed up all night after the Berlin show and talked about what would happen if we had a baby together. How it would work while on tour. Where we would live. Not that long ago, you were all in with the bandandwith me.”
“Yeah, and not that long ago, I was popping pills every morning with my coffee, and pretending to be something I wasn’t,” I admit, my voice cracking. “I don’t even remember a conversation about having a baby. I don’t remember much of anything because I was always high.”
He closes his eyes and breathes slowly. He looks so much older than twenty-seven. I hate that I’ve hurt him. I hate that we’ve hurt each other. Codependency fueled by addiction and fear isn’t good for anyone. It only leads to destruction. Our off-again, on-again relationship has been textbook toxic. Rockstar documentary fodder. I’m surprised we didn’t explode sooner.
“When does your flight leave?” he asks after opening his eyes and settling them back on me.
“Tomorrow morning. I’m back in LA for a week, then I head to North Carolina.”
He nods.
“Film your movie. Take the time and the space. Wear the ring. When you come back, you’ll see.”
I shake my head slowly. “And when I don’t?”
His smile is heartbreaking and doesn’t reach his eyes. He shrugs.
“I guess I’ll deal with it then.”
We stare at each other for a minute before I drag my eyes to the armchair where Jonah is still passed out. I furrow my brow as I watch him. His color is decent. His breathing is even. My skin still crawls with the memory of finding him face first in a puddle of vomit. It had taken hotel security ten minutes to bring us a key card. If we’d been seconds later getting into his room, just seconds...
The label gave him two days to recover. That’s it. Two.
I clench my teeth and close my eyes, shaking my head a bit to remove the images.
“Don’t worry,” Torren says, pulling me from my thoughts. “I’ll watch out for him.”
My shoulders fall and I force a small smile. “Thank you, Torren.”
He reaches up and traces my jaw lightly with his fingertips, then leans down and presses a soft kiss to my forehead. It makes me feel like crying.
“I’ll send Campbell in to get him,” Torren says as he walks to the door, referring to Jonah’s newest glorified babysitter. “Fly safe, Savvy. See you in four months.”
16
“Morning, Boss. What’s the word?”
