IF BRISTOL DISLIKED ME BEFORE, AND I’m pretty sure I can safely conclude that she did, she must hate me now. I clear the breakfast dishes so Sarita won’t have to, putting away the preserves I brought back from Glory Falls. The quiet begins to suffocate me, and I struggle to breathe evenly.
“I didn’t watch that tape, you know,” Bristol says matter-of-factly from her stool at the breakfast bar.
I pause, mid-load of the dishwasher, to glance at her before turning around to fully face her. I’m not sure what to say to the woman who has never wanted me with her brother. Even with her back turned, I felt her attention on us when I kissed Rhyson like my life depended on it before he left. That’s how it feels. Like my life depends on what happens next. I can make a name for myself. I’ll get another shot at being a star. I can find another manager since things are kind of falling apart with Malcolm. Rhyson is the only irreplaceable thing left in my life, and the thought of losing him . . . it levels me. Everything is flat until I have his forgiveness, and not even Bristol’s prickly self will get a rise out of me.
“I’m gonna go clean up downstairs.” I wipe my hands on a dishtowel, not addressing her comment. “There’s a mess in the music room.”
“You know he slept under his piano when you left?” she asks, eyes fixed on her coffee.
“What?” I pause at the kitchen door. “What do you mean?”
“I mean he was wrecked when you left him and wouldn’t take his calls.” Bristol sets her coffee down with a thud. “Thank God he had his tour to focus on those first few weeks, or he would have completely lost it. When he got back, though, we couldn’t get him out of that room.”
“I didn’t know that he—”
“Writing songs about you,” she presses on, eyes hard, voice brittle. “Missing sessions. Blowing off meetings. I’ve never seen him like that.”
She pauses, dropping her eyes back to the breakfast bar.
“I never want to see him like that again.”
“I don’t want him like that, Bristol.” I take a few steps until I’m standing in front of her. “He hurt me really badly, and I needed time to get over that.”
“And now you’ve hurt him really badly. Will you give him time to get over it?”
“As much as he needs.” I bite my lip, uncertain if it’s the right thing to say now, but sure of my feelings. “I know you’ve never trusted me, and I get it. He’s rich and famous, and I was a nobody from nowhere who out of the blue was all of a sudden your brother’s girlfriend. I understand why you’d assume I wanted something from him.”
“That about sums it up,” she mutters.
“But I love him.” I swallow my tears because Bristol doesn’t strike me as a girl who respects any sign of weakness. “And he loves me. I have to believe that will be enough. That the way we love each other will be enough.”
“Do you have any idea how special he is?” Her voice is quiet, her eyes probing mine.
“Of course I do. He’s a genius.”
“Not that shit. He’s a good guy. With all he’s been given, somehow he’s managed to be a good guy.” She shrugs her slender shoulders. “Probably Uncle Grady’s doing.”
“Yeah. He’s a good guy.” I twist my lips. “A great guy.”
My guy.
“Don’t hurt him again.” Bristol lifts her lashes, her eyes a blunt warning. “Look, I want to trust you, but then I find out you fucked the guy who hates Rhys more than anyone, and that you hid a sex tape for three months. Not exactly endearing.”
“I know it was bad judgment, not telling Rhyson.”
“It was bad judgment fucking Drex.”
She’s not saying anything I haven’t told myself a million times, but it still feels like she’s a sword that just drew first blood.
“Yes, it was,” I agree. “But Rhyson and I hadn’t even met when that happened. The thing I most regret that I could have changed is keeping this from him for weeks. I never wanted him to see that tape.”
I pause, studying the marble floor and gulping back shame.
“I know you didn’t watch, but you know what’s on it. Can you understand how desperate I was for the man I love to never see me that way?”
“But he has, right?” Bristol asks. “He watched it?”
“Yes.” I look her right in the eye. “He saw it.”
“And yet he’s still racing off to handle this for you.” She licks her lips and lowers her eyes to the coffee in front of her. “He still loves you.”
“We love each other,” I say softly. “I don’t know how long it will take him to forgive me for lying to him. I don’t know how long it will take him to trust me again, but I’ll wait.”
“I can’t promise you that I’ll trust you anytime soon.” Bristol gives me frank eyes. “You may think I’m cold and that he’s just my job. Hell, sometimes he thinks that, too. But he’s my brother, Kai. I’ve seen that he’ll always choose you, protect you. I hope you understand that I’ll always choose him. That I’m here to protect him.”
And just like that I like her. I mean, we’re still from different worlds. She may never be the girl I grab a mani/pedi with, or tell my secrets to, but she loves Rhyson. Deeply. And that we have in common.
“Bristol, you say that Rhyson chooses me every time. I promise you that I’ll choose him every time, too.”
She stands to dump her remaining coffee in the sink and to grab her purse.
“You better.” She looks at me unsmilingly for an extra few moments, and though she doesn’t crack, her eyes soften just a little. Just enough. “Well, you heard him give me my marching orders. I’m gonna go. I have work to do.”
And she’s gone, eyes already glued to the phone that seems to hold the solution to any problem Rhyson ever has. She’s Rhyson’s fixer. Makes life smoother. I don’t think I appreciated before how very good she is at it. I want to ask if she can fix Rhyson and me, if there’s anything on that phone that will fix the mess I’ve made, but I know that’s something I’ll have to do myself.
What will it take to repair the damage I’ve done to our relationship? To our trust? Last night he wouldn’t stay with me, but this morning he asked me not to leave. This stasis, this space between his love, which I don’t doubt, and his anger, which I deserve, feels like a lifelong sentence, even though it’s only been a few hours. Rhyson lasted months with my anger and my silence.
I’ll give him no less.