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My hand flies up to my head, rubbing near my temple. “Shit. Did anyone else see him?”
“I don’t know how many peoplesawhim, but half your neighbors, some random pedestrians, and that homeless guy always panhandling on the corner definitelyheardhim.”
I groan. “What did he say?”
“The words he said weren’t always clear, but there was a definite theme of how much he loves you and misses you.”
I blink. “What?” Blake never told me he loved me. I don’t think he’s capable of loving anyone other than himself. “Did you talk to him?”
“I told him you didn’t live here anymore and to go away before I called the cops. That got rid of him pretty quickly.”
I blow out a breath. “Thanks, Carson, for getting rid of him and for letting me know.” I’ll have to set an alert on my phone for any news being leaked about this. This is all I need, more media scrutiny involving me and Blake when I’m getting ready to launch a new album and kick-start my career.
“Anytime, babe. Talk atcha later.”
We hang up, and I shove my phone back in my pocket.
“Are you okay?” Luke asks, stepping closer.
“I’m fine.” Am I though? Frustration and irritation twist in my stomach. “This is just, so typical.”
“What do you mean?”
I wave a hand. “Blake. He’s so self-absorbed. He showed up at my apartment drunk. He’s been texting me lately, too.”
Luke considers me, his head tilting to one side. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Surprisingly, I do. “It’s a lot to unpack.”
“I have time.” He gestures over to the porch swing off to the side, and after a second, I nod.
Once we’re settled on the cushioned seats, I consider where to even start.
“I thought I loved him. But now, I’m not sure. Nothing about Blake is real. He’s so sucked into fame, and the optics of that, I’m not sure if he even knows who he really is. I knew that before we ever got . . . involved, but I didn’t care.”
Luke shifts on the seat next to me, stretching his arm along the back of the chair behind me. “He’s been in the spotlight for a long time.”
“That’s exactly it. Having millions of adoring fans seems like it would be amazing, but it really fucks up your self-image. His whole life has been this never-ending parade of ego-inflating moments, one after the other. He’s so used to everyone adoring him, telling him yes to everything. He forgets he’s a mere mortal because the world keeps telling him he’s a god.”
Luke dips his head in acknowledgement. “It’s especially damaging if that fame begins in childhood, when your brain is still developing.”
I nod. “It’s easy to confuse fame with love. But the general public doesn’t really know Blake. They love a version of him, the version he’s created, the one he chooses to share. It isn’t real.”
“Being superficially enamored of someone’s best qualities isn’t the same as loving them despite their worst.”
I sit back in the seat, the motion setting it to rocking back and forth slightly. “Yes. Honestly, anyone who survives childhood celebrity status without going stark raving mad is a miracle.” I blow out a breath. “With Blake, when we first met, we were just friends, but he pursued me relentlessly. Maybe because I said no. But over the years, we got to know each other, and we became friends. At least I thought we were. I trusted him. He told me that he and Jeanette were separated, married in name only for years, and I believed him.” I shake my head.
“Why wouldn’t you?” he asks softly.
I shrug. “I don’t know. In hindsight, I feel like I should have known better. It wasn’t the first time I had been hit on by a musician, but Blake was more difficult to ignore. He was tenacious, pursuing me for three years before I gave in to his charms. And then I got burned.”
“And now he’s showing up at your apartment. Would you go back to him?”
I bark out a surprised laugh. “What? No. Never. That ship has sailed. I’m still a little mad at him, but I think what I feel is more . . . irritation. And pity. I don’t think he’s happy.”
“Are you happy?”
I gaze up into his shadowed face. “I . . . I don’t know. I’m trying to be.”
