“Tate,” she stutters on my name.
“Yeah, it’s me.” I sigh.
“Sorry, I had to step into the bathroom. I’m at this thing for the company.”
“So, I hear. When do you leave?”
“Next week. New Year’s Day.”
I have to bite back my tears as my voice wavers, cracking with all the things I never said to her.
“That’s great. I’m really happy for you. Let me know when you land, okay?”
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“Sure,” she says with a pause. I wait for her to say more but some guy calls her name and she ends our call quickly.
Has she already moved on that fast? What the fuck? Is that why she really wanted to end our relationship? I throw my phone against the wall and hear the screen crack.
My heart crumbles as I hold onto her ring.
I really fucked up and now she’s moving on. I waited too long to call her. I should have chased after her. I should have gotten her pregnant. An image of her with a swollen stomach, her hand resting on it, wearing the ring takes center of my mind…I can’t stop the pain. I need her. God, do I need her.
I drown my sorrows and curse her name. I’m seething and want to hit something, so I do. I punch my fist through the wall and trash my room. It doesn’t make me feel any better. It doesn’t ease the pain I’m feeling, and I wish I could get on a plane and go to her to make her see that she belongs with me.
We should be planning a wedding—a life together, not tearing ourselves apart.
Fuck love.
Fuck everything.
Chapter 34
Amaya
I’
ve not heard back from Tate. I even thought he might’ve sent the flowers that arrived earlier but nope they are from my biggest fan. Even when I was overseas, I still received the letters and dead flowers. I finally told my tour manager about them, but he seemed to think it wasn’t a big deal. He said fans are weird. I suppose they are. I guess I should be happy I have one who cares so much. I would be more concerned if anything odd ever happened, but all I have ever gotten are the notes, flowers, and the occasional box of candy.
I keep looking to his seat, the one I reserved but he’s not here. Tate promised. Any hour any day. I fight the tears threatening to escape. Courtney worked too hard on my hair and makeup for me to ruin it. She’s sitting next to Tate’s empty seat. She’s the only person I can ever count on. Too bad neither of us are lesbians, we could say fuck men and marry each other. I laugh thinking back at the time I went to that club with Celeste. Yeah, I’m so not into chicks.
Without a minute to spare, I take my place and wait for my cue. With my hands at my sides, I shake my fingers. I never get nervous jitters before a performance, but this is my big moment to shine, and I’m not sharing it with him—with Tate. He said that he loved me, that he’d always be there for me. I was such a fool. He’s made it to the big time now. Everyone knows his face, his name. He graces the covers of the tabloids weekly. I’m just a girl he used to know. I thought I meant more to him than that.
I take form and try to clear my head.
The lights are down, the curtain is up, and the orchestra is playing in the pit. I glide across the floor. One two, three four, quickstep. I count in time to the music, afraid I’ll misstep somehow. My head isn’t in this performance. My heart isn’t in it either. My eyes keep zoning in on that empty seat. My feet move at their own accord, and I move through the motions feeling a little emptier inside every second that passes by that he isn’t here.
**
“I’m sorry he didn’t show,” Courtney says, giving me a hug after the performance.
“It’s fine, I should be used to it by now, right?”
“Yeah, but he promised he’d be here. This was your first show in the States after being gone for a year and you were the star. Your face and name has been on TV, on billboards, in the paper.”
“It’s been a year. He’s probably moved on, made an empty promise. Whatever.” The two-year tour went down to one year after my male partner blew out his knee. Tate and I have emailed when we could, just talked, as friends. Even though I so badly wanted to tell him I loved him or hear those words from him. And when I spoke with him last week, he promised he’d be here to see me. Especially since I’m in town and he lives here, and his game is here this weekend too.
“Want to go out and get drunk?” I ask Court.