Page 105 of Reverb
“I’m not asking you to change.” Even as the words came out, she knew they weren’t correct. Because relationshipsdidchange you. Partnerships changed you. Friendships.
She’d seen that with Ray and Zavier, then with Dom and Adrian. Hell, she wasn’t the same person she’d been when they’d started this tour.
David didn’t even have to say anything. His expression spoke every word. And maybe—maybe he did love her. Maybe it had changed him. Maybe he didn’t like who he’d become with her. That, more than anything else, sliced her open.
“Okay,” she managed to push out of her mouth. “So that’s it.”
“Yeah,” he whispered. “That’s it. I’m going to suggest the band find another person for this job once you guys take your July break.”
Just like that, he was leaving. “It was just a meaningless necklace.”
David set Marly on the seat next to him, and rose. He took both of Mish’s hands in his own, his fingers so warm against her skin.
Only then did she notice she was shaking. Trembling. Ah, fuck.
“You’re right. It’s not the necklace. It’s not about tonight. I’m not lying when I say I loved every second with you. With the band. But we live in two different worlds, you and me.”
At least he wasn’t giving her the “you’ll find someone better” speech. But this still felt fucking horrible. “It’s the same world.”
“It’s not. You know it’s not. I’m not built for it. I need—I don’t know. Work. Simple things.”
“Not to be a rock star’s boy toy.”
He flinched. “It’s not the press, either.” He squeezed her hands, then let go. “It’s in here. It’s me. I can’t...be who you’d need me to be if we stay together.”
She could taste the bitterness of her words in her mouth. “Doesn’t matter what I say, does it? Even if I were to tell you how fucking much I love—” Her voice broke and the damn tears streaked down her face. “You’ve got all the fucking answers, don’t you?”
“I’m sorry, Mish.”
She wiped at her eyes. “No, I don’t think you are. I think when I walk off this bus, you’re gonna be relieved that this is over. You’re going to think you did the right thing.” She straightened up, setting her spine and her will. “I hope that gives you some comfort, because we’re not fucking talking for the rest of the tour.”
Then she turned on her heels and walked off the bus.
The boys and Marcella were on the band bus when she returned there. “I don’t want to talk about it.” The words came out like a whip as she marched to the back of the bus and yanked the privacy curtain shut.
Then she doubled over as her lungs and heart warred with her despair and sorrow. Gasps of air, because she would not fucking break down and sob over fucking David Altet, who’d decided she was—something. Out of his league? A fairy tale? God only knew.
Yes, she was a rock star. But she was also still herself, with feelings and emotions. She was also that young woman singing in a dive bar on the Jersey Shore where Ray’d found her. She was all these things and more, and if David didn’t see that, couldn’t fight for that...
Well. His loss.
Except it felt like the end of the world for her.
The curtain on the entryway fluttered. “Mish, may I come in?” Zavier’s voice.
“Yeah.” She sounded like a cheese grater.
Zavier slipped past the curtain. In his hand he held a white mug, which he offered to her. “Not gonna ask you anything. Just wanted to bring you this, to take the edge off.”
From the smell and the lovely amber color, it was a shot of Adrian’s whiskey. She took the offered mug and sipped. “Thanks.”
He hesitated. “Do you want company?”
She didn’t know. There weren’t any answers in the mug. “You don’t drink much anymore, do you?”
Zavier crossed the lounge and sat down. “No, not since Ray and I started living together. He’s fine with me drinking. We sometimes even open a bottle of wine if he’s in the mood. But I follow his lead on that.”
“You changed for him.”
