A pained smile paints her face as she grabs my hand. “I know you are. It’s okay.” I grit my teeth; it’s so far from okay, but she continues, “I wish I could stay here with you to weather tomorrow’s storm, but Raleigh and Dalton want me to go home and lie low.” She glances over her shoulder toward the front door, it seems she has something else to say, but she keeps her mouth shut.
I swallow and am barely able to say, “I understand.” Leaning down, I rest a gentle kiss on her injured cheek and grab her hand tight as we head outside together. At least we can face the world as a united front tonight.
Chapter 18
Mae
THE BRIGHT AFTERNOON sun is pouring into my Nashville penthouse by the time I’m able to pry myself out of bed. Last night seemed like a bad dream, and yet I had been in Dallas hours ago, screaming down the interstate with Wyatt beside me.
Slapping a hand against my face to combat my confusion, I wince as I remember how the grimy concrete had felt when I slammed my face into it. Reaching toward my side table, I pick up my phone. I frown when I don’t see any messages from Wyatt. Instead, there’s about a million updates from Raleigh.
Raleigh:I put out a statement early this morning. Your fans and even some news outlets are painting you a victim, so even the sports media outlets shouldn’t be too harsh on you.
Maybe not on me, but what about Wyatt? The accusations of being a bad luck charm and a manipulative bitch had cut deep, but what will his repercussions be? He’s bound to have a toughtime with the media, his family, coaches, and teammates. I curl myself around my knees as I scroll deeper into the text thread.
Raleigh:Watching Wyatt’s press conference. He’s getting eaten alive by these questions.
Raleigh:His agent has him trained well. He’s answering like a champ.
Raleigh:How are you not up yet? This man is fighting for his life defending your honor out here!
Raleigh:Dalton and I are coming over later. Don’t worry, he’s not going to reprimand you, because I already did that, remember? *wink emoji
Raleigh:Please let me know when you’re up. Everyone wants to know how you’re doing.
Raleigh:I really need you to get up.
Raleigh:I’m sure you’re really excited to see he who shall not be named but you really should be getting up soon so we can discuss the Country Music City Award nominee show tonight.
I groan and throw my arm across my face. Is that really tonight? My stomach finds new ways to twist and knot at the thought of seeing Trenton’s face on my screen and hearing him say my name again.
Raleigh:We can mute it when he’s on the screen. I do think it would be fun to make a reel with your reactions to your nominations, though.
Raleigh:Girl, I’m so bored. You are literally my life. Please wake up and tell me what you need me to do. Dalton is acting like a lost puppy with you.
Mae:I’m awake.
I toss my phone on the opposite side of the bed and get ready for the day. Raleigh will take the text as a sign to visit, and that’s all okay with me. This house gets lonely without anyone else around, especially on the days I feel the need to hide here.
The majority of my afternoon is spent at my piano. I’m able to come up with a lovely melody and put some words to it that I’ve been throwing around since meeting Wyatt. Neither of us have made the effort to reach out today. I hope he’s just busy and that he didn’t take my comment about slowing down so seriously as to not want to talk to me.
The nerves of my current relationship fade away and images of my engagement ring take their place. The fact that I’m going to see the man behind my fear of fast-moving relationships tonight does nothing to calm my nerves. I rest my head on the piano keys. The past two days will go down as the craziest 48 hours of my life, hopefully. I don’t know how I could take anything crazier.
I put on some old records and move to the kitchen to make myself a sandwich. Ella Fitzgerald hums in the background, helping me to put my feet back on the ground.
Dinner is served. I’m the only one, alone, at a table built for ten. When I take a look around the room at the achievements on the wall and then at the empty table, I realize just how rarely this room is full of friends. Sure, Dalton and Raleigh come over occasionally, and sometimes I’ll host a writers retreat for my colleagues but it’s never full of the conversation I long for. The thought of what I want triggers thoughts of dinner with Wyatt and his family and how perfect it had been.
Suddenly, not hungry, I push my plate away and reach for my phone again. The last message is from Dalton a few minutes ago:
Dalton:We’re on our way over. Be warned, Raleigh has a whole bunch of ideas for how you can handle your socials tonight.
Right on cue, Dalton and Raleigh buzz in and enter without so much as a hello. Raleigh moves straight to the TV and Dalton to the fridge.
“Hey Mae,” Raleigh pauses, “please tell me you aren’t wearing the same thing I saw you go to bed in last night.”
Looking down at myself, I nod solemnly.
Raleigh shoos me from the kitchen table. “Go shower, put on a cute sweatshirt, and then report back to me. This broadcast starts in 30 minutes.”
