“Are you ever going to try to reach out to Bren—”
“Mandy, stop it,” I say, tired of the same conversation.
Mandy learned about Audrey’s father in the most dramatic way possible—in the delivery room. Apart from Mom, she’s the only human who knows my daughter’s last name.
“Fine, fine. I won’t say anything,” she says.
During my pregnancy and since Audrey’s birth, Mandy and I have become almost inseparable. Carolina and Sara became workaholics while they nursed broken hearts, so I leaned on Mandy and my bar team. Even David turned out to be a fantastic guy, in the end, and a surprising source of support.
During that time, Lulu and his dad came into Mandy’s life like a bulldozer, and she learned all the baby stuff with me. We were both clueless at the start, and Ileana is often a source of information. She is our ultimate life hack, and we treasure her dearly.
“She looks like him, you know,” Mandy says.
I look down at my daughter, who stares up at me with her father’s same chocolate-brown eyes. She yawns the cutest little yawn, and I smile because those full lips of hers are a duplicate mini-version of mine. She is the best parts of both of us, and he will never know.
“I know,” I say, but my voice cracks.
“I’m dropping the subject, I swear, but I also came over for a reason.”
My eyes snap up to her. “What?” I ask.
Mandy averts her gaze. “You haven’t seen the news today, have you?”
I shake my head.
“There was a press release aboutIndustrial November. They dropped a new album and released a music video for one of the new songs.”
“Oh, yeah?” I try to sound as disinterested as possible, but my heart is beating hard against my chest.
Mandy nods. “And it’s fascinating,” she says. “The song in the video is called ‘The Girl from Kansas City.’”
I grip tightly to Audrey because I don’t want to drop her. “What?”
Mandy’s mouth quirks up into a teasing and smug ‘I got you’ smile. “I wonder who it could be about?” she asks, her arms crossed. “All I’m saying is, it doesn’t look like he got over you.”
“Mandy—”
“I know. I know. I’m butting out. I just thought you should know.”
* * *
After Mandy leaves,I put Audrey down for a nap and take a deep dive on the internet, reading article after article.
“Industrial Novemberreleased a new music video in promotion of their new album. Band manager Roger Kemp stated in a press release today that the band has no plans to tour at the moment. The album aptly namedBreaking This Waybreaks away from Brenner Reindhart’s usual style of lyric. As the primary lyricist, Reindhart has always gravitated toward simple yet powerful songs about anger, women, lust, and other rock and roll themes. In their last album, he also included the surprisingly popular revenge ballad, ‘Late Night Legs.’
“For fans of the ballad, they’ll be happy to knowBreaking This Wayis full of equally powerful ballads. In a surprise pivot for the band, the ballads croon all about heartbreak. Two of the songs include the name Sofia and given the music video release of ‘The Girl from Kansas City,’ we can only assume the elusive Sofia is from Kansas City.
“Both songs, ‘Dreams of Sofia’ and ‘Sofia is Waiting,’ will undoubtedly break many hearts. It is no mystery that Brenner Reindhart’s heart has been broken. The only question now is: Who is the mysterious Sofia?”
My pulse quickens as I read on. The album isn’t available yet, and all the criticism is from early reviewers of the album, so I can’t have a listen for myself apart from the song in the video.
“The Girl from Kansas City” isn’t about heartbreak, though. It is almost upbeat, with a touch of nostalgia, and includes references to our first meeting, one line about passionate tequila nights, and a line about swimming in the valley. Finn would understand what that meant, but most of the lines would only mean something to me.
Fuck.
Guilt for breaking Bren’s heart washes over me anew. I can’t believe he would write about us, about me—about me breaking his heart, specifically. I have to get my hands on the rest of the songs. I run a hand through my hair, which now hits below my shoulders, and I pull on it once. It was hard keeping up with the maintenance of my short, asymmetrical bob once I became a full-time mom, so I let it grow wild, more like Mandy’s witchy hair.
Then, for the most shameful second of my life, I dare to let a glimmer of hope enter my tattered old heart. I hope Bren still thinks about me. That he will come back to me—to us.