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“I could’ve handled it if you’d just told me, Lala. You didn’t need to hide it.”
“I wasn’t intentionally hiding it…”
“Whatever you decide to do,” I told her, “staying in New York or going back to Philly early, the choice won’t change what’s meant to happen with us, sweetheart.”
“It sounds like you’re encouraging me to leave, though.”
Maybe subconsciously I was pushing her to go, not because I wanted to lose her, but because the sooner she left, the sooner I could know whether we stood a chance in the long term. With Lala in New York, it felt like we were in a temporary fantasy. It wasn’t our eventual reality.
I could hear her breathing heavily. I didn’t want to upset her when she was about to get on the road. What if she got into an accident? I’d never be able to forgive myself.
“Look, Lala… Don’t stress, okay? The answer of whether or not to move back early will come to you, maybe based on how your mom’s doing when you see her. But don’t base it on me… It won’t impact our…”
I hesitated. Relationship? I wanted to believe that was what we had versus a temporary thing, but time would tell.
I continued, “Be careful driving. Enjoy the visit with your parents, and try not to worry about anything else.” I exhaled. “Promise me you won’t get on the road if you’re upset.”
“Do you believe that I wasn’t intentionally hiding this from you?”
“I do, Lala. Okay?”
Her voice was barely a whisper. “Okay.”
***
I could finally breathe.
From the moment we’d landed in L.A., we’d been locked away in that dark studio, working on the demo through the entire freaking night. I hadn’t had a moment to think straight.
Being busy had been a good thing, though, because it kept me from ruminating about Lala. I felt bad for the attitude I’d given her during our phone call at the airport yesterday. In fact, I’d pretty much thought of nothing else for the first half of the flight over here before I started writing some lyrics to stop myself from totally drowning in my thoughts.
There was no part of me that wanted us to be apart sooner than we had to. Rather than opening up about that like I should’ve, though, I’d acted like her leaving didn’t matter to me. Like maybe she didn’t matter to me. I wasn’t sure whether I was trying to protect her from me or myself from her at this point.
But I’d gone long enough—more than twenty-four hours—without hearing her voice. That needed to end now.
Palm trees blew in the breeze as I stepped outside the building, feeling like I’d just emerged from a black hole into daylight. Leaning against the wall of the recording studio, I could see the Hollywood sign in the distance as I took out my phone to dial her.
“Hey…” she said when she picked up. “How did everything go?”
“We just wrapped up. I’m wiped, but we got some good stuff down.”
“I’m so glad, Holden.”
I could hear silverware clanking in the background. I knew it was close to dinner time on the east coast.
I sat down on the ground. “Are you in the middle of eating?”
“Yeah, no biggie, though. I’m so happy everything went well.”
“If I had to miss being with you this weekend, it better damn well have been productive and not a waste. I worked my ass off to make sure of that.” Looking up at the sun, I sighed, “I fucking miss you. I’m sorry I was a dick the last time we spoke.”
“It’s okay. You were upset. I’m sorry to have caused it.”
“Lala, listen. I’m…” I was about to explain why I didn’t want her to move back to Philly early when I heard a certain voice in the background. A male voice. And it wasn’t her dad, either.
I narrowed my eyes as my heart pumped faster. “Who’s there right now?”
“Hang on,” she said. There was some rustling, and then she came back on the line. “I needed to step away from the table.”
I tugged on my hair and snapped, “Why?”
“That was Warren you heard,” Lala whispered. “I didn’t want to talk about him in front of his face.”
Sucking in a breath, I seethed. “What is he doing there?”
“He stopped by the house to say goodbye before he has to leave for California this week. It turned out they needed him there sooner than originally planned. I didn’t want him to stay for dinner, but my parents insisted.” When I stayed silent, she asked, “Are you mad?”
“Why would I be mad? You wouldn’t care if I was having dinner tonight with one of my exes while I was out here, right?”
That was a cheap shot, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Point taken. I’m sorry if I upset you. I seem to be doing that a lot as of late.”
