I’ve spent the last several days in a daze, throwing myself into work until my eyes felt like sand and my eyelids were so heavy that I had no other choice but to fall asleep the second my head hit the pillow.
But tonight’s the documentary premiere, and I won’t be able to avoid him for much longer.
I’ve had that damn video burned into my brain since I watched it. Women throwing their panties at the band, then draping themselves all over the guys backstage. While Trent wasn’t in too much of that specific footage, there was plenty of footage of gorgeous woman after gorgeous woman flirting with him backstage and asking him to sign their cleavage during VIP meet and greets.
It’s one thing to think you know what goes on during tour—it’s a whole other story actually seeing it.
There’s a part of my brain that understands I’m pulling away again, but Brad hit on the nerve of all my insecurities.
Can I really be enough for a guy like Trent?
He could have any woman he wants. Why would he want someone as broken and messed up as me? All the months of therapy feel like a waste as I slip back into old habits—ignoring the part of my brain that’s trying to be rational and forcing me to really think this through.
I just need to get through this premiere and then I can sit down with my therapist and have her talk me off this ledge that I’m standing on.
Fans are already lining the red carpet, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the band, when I get there and finalize the interview details with Penny before sending her off to meet with the entertainment reporters. Deafening screams break out, and my skin prickles with awareness.
He’s here.
I turn around just in time to catch a glimpse of him from my spot tucked back behind all the craziness. My heart clenches, and doubt creeps in that I’ve messed this up. What am I thinking? That gorgeous man just confessed that he loves me. I’m being crazy.
I’m about to walk over to him when someone grabs my elbow, and I turn to see Simone standing there staring at me with surprise.
“What are you doing here? I thought you would’ve been out celebrating by now?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your promotion! Why are you still working? Marshall said you could take the night off. Hell, you’ve earned it.”
Oh yes, the promotion I worked so hard for that felt bittersweet when I actually got it this morning because the first person I wanted to tell was the same person I was avoiding.
“What can I say? I’m a workaholic.”
“Clearly,” she says, shaking her head at me like she thinks I’m crazy.
Get in line, sister.
Gesturing behind me I say, “I’m going to go check on the band. Make sure everything’s running smoothly.”
She smiles knowingly at me and then I turn to make my escape, only to see Trent smiling down at a fan with a softness in his gaze that causes me to suck in a breath. Instead of continuing forward, I stop and watch him interacting with the beautiful bevy of women standing in front of him.
My doubts creep back in, and without thinking it through too much I turn back to Simone. “Actually, I think I will take the night off. I’m also going to need the next few days. There’s something I need to do that requires me to leave town,” I tell her, an idea already forming in my head.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just family stuff.”
“Okay, not a problem. Things should be pretty quiet. All the feedback has been positive so far, so even if we get any bad reviews, I’m sure we can handle it.”
“Great,” I say and then hustle out of there, my heels clacking loudly against the cement of the sidewalk in my haste to get to my car.
On my drive home, I call Elise.
“Hey, Becks, what’s up?”
“Let’s go see Dad.”
“That’s what we’ve already planned.”
I shake my head even though she can’t see me. “No, I mean, let’s go tomorrow.”
She hesitates before responding. “Tomorrow? Why the sudden urgency?”
Because I need answers. I need to know why I wasn’t enough for him to stick around. I need to know if I’ll always be broken. “Because I have a few days off.”
She’s silent so long, I worry she’s going to tell me no, when she finally says, “Okay. I just found a flight from Austin to Vegas that arrives tomorrow morning at nine a.m. Can you meet me there?”
A huge sigh of relief escapes me. “Done. I’ll text you my flight info once I get it booked.”
“See you tomorrow.”
We hang up, and I feel like at least I have something under control. That is, until I’m home packing and get a text from Trent.
Trent: Hey gorgeous, where are you?
My gut clenches with a mix of guilt, longing, and regret.
Me: I’m at home. Something came up with Elise and I’ve got to go out of town for a few days.
I nibble my lip, waiting for his response.
Trent: What’s going on?
Me: Just family stuff.
He responds almost instantly. Why are you being vague? What’s wrong?
I should’ve known that wouldn’t be enough for him. I’ve been making excuses for days, blaming work on why we couldn’t see each other. Of course he’s not going to be satisfied with my weak answers.
Me: Nothing.
Trent: Bullshit.
I start to text him another excuse when I pause, my heart aching with the realization of what I really need to do. I start and delete multiple drafts before I finally compose something that I can send to him. That rational part of my brain screams at me again, but the little girl that lives inside me, heartbroken and lost, wins out like she always does.
Me: I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry. I thought I could, but I think it’s too much for me.
I wait for a response. For him to fight me on it. But the text never comes, and by the time I realize I’ve made a mistake, I know it’s too late. I’ve pushed him too far.