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Fuck, what did that word mean anyway?
Lennon seemed to know with her constant mention of having anormallife, with anormalguy, in anormalrelationship. I wanted to call and ask her what that even meant and if it was worth sacrificing the man—me—who could make her happy.
Peter makes her happy.
I kept that thought on a continuous loop as I threw a couple of shirts into a backpack along with some socks and underwear. Yet, no matter how many times my inner voice said it, my gut and heart combined couldn't believe it.
The guy had fought with her on her birthday, then let her sleep on the couch. Granted, a week had already passed since then, and I was sure they'd ironed things out by now. But while she might've swept it under the rug to be temporarily forgotten, I couldn't, knowing damn well I would've spent that night worshipping every inch of her body with every inch of mine.
But he makes her happy, and you don't.
But was I ever given the chance?
It had been a week since I’d heard from her, since her birthday. I could've texted her, I could've called, and maybe she felt I was up to my old tricks by neglecting to do so. But this time, it was on purpose. I was leaving her alone because, while I might doubt the truth in their happiness, I didn't want to be the source of doubt.
So, with the final word jotted in that last song, I made a silent vow to wave my white flag and give her up for the sake of whatever she felt she needed. Knowing I would go down in history as the greatest lover of her life while, in mine, she was everything.
I just wished I'd realized it sooner.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Lennon
Long Island-based rock band Angels of the Silences has announced the upcoming release of their fifth studio album, titledWhen Karma Met Destiny. Along with the announcement on their fan page, AotS said, with the release, there will be an accompanying tour—dates and venues to be announced shortly.
For AotS fans, this news brings an incredible and emotional response—and understandably so. Nearly five years ago, front man Dylan Pierce was driving home from one of their Long Island shows, when he crashed his car during a thunderstorm, crushing his left leg and putting him into a medically induced coma for a week. Fans feared he wouldn't make it, but now, years later, they're not only celebrating Dylan's life, but also the band's comeback.
One fan's Twitter post read:I never thought we'd be here again, but, OMG, I am so glad we are!!! #AngelsDontFallTheyFly
We couldn't have said it better ourselves.
***
“So,” Tarryn said, reaching across the table to snag a fry from my carton, “do you think your boyfriend's gonna give you permission to go to one of the shows?”
I rolled my eyes and reached for my glass of Diet Pepsi. “Okay, first of all, he doesn't tell me what to do.”
She snorted and shot a side-eyed glare toward my brother, sitting beside her at my parents' kitchen table. “Says the girl who had to find out online that her friend's going out on tour soon,” she muttered beneath her breath.
Connor gripped his triple cheeseburger in both hands as he replied, “I mean, hedidtell you not to see Dylan again.”
Leveling them both with a hard glare and ignoring the truth I saw in their points, I continued, “Second of all, I don't even know if they're playing here, and it's not like I can just get in the car and drive somewhere farther away.”
“Peter has a car,” Tarryn pointed out, popping the fry into her mouth. “Hey, here’s an idea: why don't you go to a show together? Wouldn't that be sweet?” She turned to my brother, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Connor, don't you think that'd besweet?”
He nearly choked on the boulder-sized bite in his mouth as he grinned. “Sosweet,” he mumbled, barely audible with his face stuffed with food.
It had been a month since my birthday, a month since Peter's jealousy had reared its ugly head, and a month since I'd last seen Dylan. And still, my best friend couldn't stop harping on my relationship's contingency to continue. Her blatant dislike toward my boyfriend was mentioned nearly every time we spoke, and it was getting on my nerves.
“Do you really have to constantly bring this shit up?” I snapped, putting down my soda before I could take a sip. “You don't like Peter—I get it. You don’t have to bring it up all the freakin’ time.”
Tarryn's sardonic demeanor fell away, revealing the honesty beneath as she faced me with a deathly serious expression. “I didn't say I don't like Peter. He’s fine. But what I don't like is him telling you what you can and can't do,” she said in a flat monotone. “And what I dislike even more is how you’re going along with it.”
As a surprise, Tarryn had called the other day from the airport, announcing that she was done shooting the pilot and first three episodes ofBreckenridge. To celebrate, the director had given the cast and crew a week off, so naturally, she was headed home and wanted to hang out. She had asked if Connor would be around, to which I scoffed and told her I didn't know what my brother's schedule was any more than I truly saw the colors of the rainbow.
But much to my amazement, he had shown up.
Funny how he came when she wanted him to, and not for his own mother.
