Page 97

Tate nods sympathetically. “I keep trying to convince my mom to move.”

My mom tears into her chicken with brute force. “With all the money you have, you could move us all out here. What was it the internet said he was worth, Donald?”

Dad thinks for a second. “Nearly two million.”

I set down my fork. “Let’s not talk about this. It’s private.”

“It’s okay,” Tate reassures me.

It’s far from okay, and my mother has only just begun. The delicious flavors from the food turn ashy, leaving a nasty taste in my mouth.

“Private?” Her tone bites at the air, teeth bared. “We know everything. I’ve never followed the gossip, but when my very own son-in-law becomes famous, of course I had to keep track. Drugs and rehab⁠—”

“I told you those are false.”

“You should see what they say about you, Talia.”

And like a wrecking ball, my mom does what she does best. She ruins, and with it, she obliterates my hope.

THIRTY-EIGHT

TATE

ONE YEAR AGO–END OF JUNE

I remember wishing we had money growing up so I could pick Talia up in a stretch limousine before senior prom, drive through the streets of our hometown, showing her off in her pretty dress, our heads sticking out of the rooftop. I could barely afford a suit and tie, and Talia spent almost all her savings at the thrift store on her dress.

It was one of the best nights of our lives. We danced, laughed, kissed, and celebrated the end of our high school years. No limo necessary.

I made that dream a reality tonight, hoping she’d be impressed, and she is, marginally, but an emotion I’m nervous about identifying lurks beneath the surface, stopping her from truly enjoying herself. We’re headed into the city for a movie premiere. My publicists think it would be a good opportunity for me to build a reputation with other artists and the press. Really get my name out there.

But all I can think about is how miserable Talia looks as we join the line of vehicles.

After Talia broke the news about us not starting a family, I’ll admit, I closed off. Howard mentioned a trip to LA, and like a coward, I jumped at the opportunity. I thought it would be one day—two max, some time to clear my head.

I’ve been gone nine days. Nine days without speaking, apart from the occasional text message. I knew it was the wrong move the moment I stepped on the plane, but it was too late.

I’d prepared myself to fight when I got home. Instead, Talia was distant and aloof.

I was struggling with how to handle the changes in our life and the bombshell Talia dropped on me. After over a year of discussing kids and agreeing we were ready, she put a pin in our plans. A huge pin. I thought she’d be excited about the house, the truck, all the doors my new job is opening for us. It’s beyond anything we ever imagined. Talia wouldn’t have to work. We’d never worry about how far our paychecks were going to stretch. Our debts paid off. And our children wouldn’t know what it’s like to wonder where their next meal is going to come from or watch their momma sacrifice her dinner for them.

Reaching across the long stretch of leather seating, I cup her knee. Her weary eyes fall to the connection, but she doesn’t move away. It’s the closest we’ve been in two weeks. This is what we need: time together to unwind.

“Is everything all right?”

She traps her bottom lip between her teeth. “Just nervous. There are a lot of people.”

As we near closer, the size of the crowd becomes clear. It is a lot of people. Flashes and shouts come from the paparazzi sectioned off by a rope. “It’ll be fun. We don’t have to stay long.”

Her eyes remain glued to the window, her leg bouncing under my hand. “Yeah. Okay.” She turns to me and I try to tell myself her smile is genuine. “I feel underdressed.” She picks at the hem of her pretty blue dress. “Look how glamorous everyone is.”

“You look beautiful.”

“You have to say that.” She corkscrews her lips. “Please don’t abandon me.”

I frown, unsure where this is coming from. “I’d never leave you.”

A moment passes between us, thawing the icy tension. I lean in, needing her lips on mine before we join the circus. I didn’t even kiss her goodbye when I left for LA. We’ve never done that. We’ve also never been apart for so long either.