I recoiled from the boy like he’d hissed at me.
“Oh, no, that’s okay, honey.” I fumbled with the wire of my earphones, trying to untangle them. “Thank you, though.”
I was relieved when I pushed the pods back into my ears and another song from my playlist blocked out everything else. I must have seemed like a crazy woman to the kid because he inched his way closer to the elevator’s doors. He repeatedly tapped on the button of the floor he wanted to get off at and when the doors opened, he bolted through them quicker than a hiccup.
I leaned my head back against the steel wall and exhaled a deep breath. That was a close encounter. I had had more than a few of them over the years, but I had been so close to hearing his voice this time that I could feel my heart pound away inside of my chest. I wore my earphones everywhere for a reason, so I would never have to hear his voice. Nine years ago my mum got sick, but that wasn’t all that happened that turned my world on its head. My ex-boyfriend and the love of my life, Risk Keller, walked out of my life at my request.
He had been a musician who, along with his band, got the big break they had been waiting for. The opportunity to sign a record deal with a small-time record label. I knew from the moment that my mum got sick that my life would forever be in Southwold because I was never going to leave her. Never. Risk’s life was never meant to be lived out in one place. He was too great for this small, coastal town. I knew that even if he didn’t.
Breaking up with him was the only way he could pursue his dream because I knew if I stayed in Southwold while still dating him, that he would eventually give up his career to be with me. That was how much he loved me, that was the kind of person he was. I didn’t want that for him, but that didn’t mean I wanted to break up with him. I wanted to hold on to him forever and never let him go, but that was selfish because his happiness mattered, not only mine.
Staying in Southwold would have ruined Risk. Leaving Southwold would have killed me.
The only solution was to break up, so that was what happened between us. The boy I had known my entire life, and dated and loved hard for three years, was suddenly no longer a part of my life. He did achieve his dream of being a successful musician just like I knew he would. A year and half after Risk, Hayes and May, his friends and bandmates, moved to Los Angeles, their debut album reached number one on the Billboard 200 chart. They broke records for the quickest debut album of a rock band to go straight to number one in over fifty countries, as well as having the highest first-week album sales of any rock band in their rookie year with their debut album in the US and UK.
That was only the beginning for Blood Oath.
Just like I knew they would, they exploded onto a global stage and took the world by storm. Everyone knew who they were, not only for the handsome faces of the band members, but because of their raw talent. They didn’t play anything safe. They didn’t censor themselves, they were the embodiment of rock and roll. They had won multiple Grammys, Brits and even bagged an Oscar for an original song that was featured in a major motion picture. Everything that the lads had ever wanted, they achieved it and beyond. I couldn’t have been happier for them. No one but the guys knew it, but I was the original Sinner.
The first ever fan of Blood Oath, but even back then I knew I wouldn’t be the last.
Their achievements were as far as my knowledge about them went and that was only because it was safe information that I could research. I knew Blood Oath were famous and that they were known by many around the world, but I hadn’t heard a single one of their songs in nine years, apart from the instrumental versions. Not that I didn’t want to, but just because I couldn’t cope with it. Risk was the lead vocalist of the band and his voice, his stunning voice, was one of the few things in this world that could shatter me instantly.
It was coming up on nine years since we broke up, since I last saw him in person, since I last heard his voice, since I last got to experience what it was like to kiss him, and if I heard him sing, even just for one second, I would be thrust back into the pain of losing someone who I had loved so desperately. Risk was once my rock, my coping partner, my favourite sound but now . . . now he was a trigger for pain. A trigger to remind me just how perfect my life once was and what I had with him. A trigger to remind me how I was just barely holding things together now.