Page 94 of Fame and Obsession
I stand before she can touch me and walk to the far end of the room. “That’s just it, Phoebe… You’ve had so many chances to explain. We’ve been back together for over two weeks. There’s been plenty of time for you to tell me what you did. Jesus, you could’ve at least warned me what was coming.” My eyes drift to the floor. “But instead, I had to hear it from my manager?” I shake my head. “It should’ve been you.”
“I was afraid,” she says, her voice shaking. “Things have been so normal between us. I was scared to rock the boat.”
“Because this is so much better.”
“I really thought I was helping. You have to know that.”
“Helping who?” I shout. “Me? Or yourself?”
“I don’t… Julian, can you please look at me for Christ’s sake?” Her voice cracks as she takes a cautious step toward me.
Lifting my chin, I glare at her, causing her to freeze mid-step. Those big blue eyes fill with tears, and I almost break. I almost take it all back and promise her everything will be all right.
But it won’t. Not now.
She bites her lip. “What do you mean, helping myself?”
“You mentioned at the gala that helping me would be like getting even with a ghost. Is that what this was?” I ask, smacking my hand against the damning article. “Was this about helping me fight my monster or about absolving yourself of your own?”
Her voice shatters as tears roll down her cheeks. “That was cruel.”
I think about my mom and little brother. They’re probably reading her article right now. I half expect my phone to ring at any minute.
But the worst part of all?
This is what I’ll be asked about in interviews from now on. It’ll never be about the music anymore.
Because I let her in.
I turn my back to her. I can’t look at her while destroying us both. “Go home, Phoebe.”
“What about our bet? Don’t I get my free pass?”
Whatever I say next will chart the course for the rest of my life.
“Not when the screw up was premeditated. Leave me alone, Phoebe. And don’t ever write about me again.”
Twenty-Six
Phoebe
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say, tearing through the living room. I don’t want to confess my sins. All I want to do is curl up on my bed and shut out the world.
Gage narrows his eyes, making no move to lift his head off Parker’s chest. “You sure, Pheebs?”
They looked so happy curled up on the couch that I want to throw up—again.
I nod—at least I think it’s a nod. “I just need to be alone.”
Hurrying into my room, I slam the door. After knocking everything from my dresser onto the floor in a slew of curses, I collapse onto my bed, finally allowing the tears to fall.
There’s only one other time in my life I’ve felt this deep of a cut, and it almost killed me. I won’t bleed from a broken heart, but functioning seems laughable.
I knew this would happen. It’s why I was so determined to keep my walls up. Stupidly, I let him in, and now I have to find a way to rebuild what he’s torn down.
Still, everything he said to me was justified.
For once, Julian and I had been drama-free, and I’d convinced myself that telling him about the article would’ve blown that to hell.
