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We stop at a gas station a few miles outside of New York to fill up. Kael waves me away when I go to get out of the car. He pulls his sunglasses down over his eyes, and then swipes his credit card through the slot, before grabbing the nozzle, and he starts pumping.
I use the moment alone to send Nick a quick text message.
Me: Kael can’t make it to rehearsal today. I’m taking him home.
Nick replies so quickly I’m guessing he was sitting on the thing.
Nick: Not an option. Get him here.
Me: He’s really upset. Long story. I’ll fill you in later.
Nick: Is he clean?
Me: Of course he is. He’s just in a bad place right now. Can’t it wait?
Nick: No. The execs are expecting him.
Me: What about the paparazzi? Do they know where he is? I don’t want to risk anyone getting a photo of him like this.
Nick: Didn’t you hear? Kael was moved to another treatment facility yesterday morning. In Rhode Island. He gets out late next week.
Me: Good to know.
Nick: Get him here. Stay and watch rehearsals if you want. Keep an eye on him. I don’t care. But just get him here.
I stare down at the phone in my hand. Well great. What am I supposed to do now? I take a deep breath, and then another as I glance out the window, watching Kael head inside the store.
I wonder what he wants inside the store. Maybe he’s using the restroom. I could probably do with a bathroom break myself, but I’m not going to move.
And also, if I get out of the car now, Kael might insist on driving us the rest of the way into the city, and that’s just not going to happen. I’m totally in love with this car. It’s like driving a tank, but you know, a really cool tank.
When I look up again, Kael is coming back out of the store balancing two to-go coffee cups on top of one another, signing an autograph for a teenage boy, who suddenly breaks out into an overly enthusiastic air guitar performance, jumping all over the place, throwing his head around so hard he looks like he’s having a seizure.
Kael just stands there, staring at the guy. Stunned would be the word. But then ever so slowly, a small smile lifts the corners of his mouth, and his smile is so breathtaking that I can see it, and feel it, all the way from the car.
Thankfully, Kael ends up laughing, shaking his head, and then he claps the teenager on the back with his free hand, and they talk for a few minutes more.
When the passenger door eventually opens, Kael slides into the car still smiling, and there’s so much relief that comes with the simple fact that he’s smiling again, that I feel the tension leave my body in rolling waves.
“Coffee?” he says, handing me a cup.
“Thank you.”
“Did you see that guy?”
“I did.”
“He was fucking crazy.”
He fiddles with the stereo, another half-smile on his face, and I don’t know what comes over me. Maybe I just want to see if I can keep him smiling.
With a twist of my hips and a knee buried beneath me, I unbuckle my seatbelt and raise myself up, leaning across the console to plant a kiss on his cheek.
“What’d I do to deserve that?” He shoots me a look out of the corner of his eye.
“It was for… for everything,” I whisper.
I thought my heart couldn’t throb any worse than this, but then Kael stabs me with the saddest words I’ve ever heard anyone say in all my life. When he speaks, his voice is gruff, and a crease appears above the bridge of his nose.
