I stayed one night in Boise. Billy and Daisy wanted me to hang out longer, to hop back on the tour bus. They had one more venue and then a seven-day break before heading off for the East Coast leg of their tour. I declined for two reasons—one, because I wasn’t ready to see Warren yet, to discover if our relationship was really over, and two, because I needed to pack.
“For such a small apartment, you sure managed to fit a lot of crap in here,” Lily said, holding up a string of fairy lights. As soon as I decided to move back to L.A., I’d called Lily and enlisted her help. She’d showed up the next day, bright and early on my doorstep, holding cups of hot chocolate spiced with rum. Lily rolled up the lights and shoved them in a box.
“Yeah, most of this stuff I’ll probably end up donating, but I don’t feel like going through it right now.”
Lily stepped around boxes, stopping in front of my end table with the leg lamp from A Christmas Story. I left it out year round. “This should definitely go.”
“Gabe hates it, too.” I considered the lamp, how the hideous thing made me feel strangely connected to my birth mom. I’d treasured it once, basking in the glow of its yellow light, remembering the precious few happy moments in my childhood before Billy. It had been a keepsake. But now, when I looked at, it was just a tacky piece of movie memorabilia. I didn’t need it. “Maybe you’re right, let’s take it out to the dumpster later on.” I opened a dresser drawer and sucked in a deep breath. Crammed in the top drawer were all the returned divorce papers from Warren. I’d forgotten I’d shoved them there.
“What’s the matter?” Lily was beside me. “Oh.”
Pain started to radiate out from my chest. My heart. Every time I thought of Warren, another fissure opened.
“Do you need a hug?” Lily asked right before I felt her arms go around me. I melted into her. I’d unblocked Warren’s number in Boise. I was considering calling him but couldn’t find the courage. He hadn’t called me. This seemed worse. Every second of phone silence felt like another nail in our relationship coffin. And now I’d found the divorce papers. “Those Price brothers, both cut from the same asshole cloth.”
Once upon a time, I would’ve agreed with Lily. I would’ve laughed, agreeing Warren Price was the king of assholes. But not anymore. Warren wasn’t an asshole. Well, he could be sometimes. But most of the time, he was sweet and loyal. God, so loyal. And even when he was a giant prick, I loved him, with all his rough edges. I’d loved him since our first kiss.
Shouting from the sidewalk below had me withdrawing from Lily’s arms. “What the hell?” I muttered. Going to the windows, I pulled back the curtains. I’d kept them drawn since Restaurantgate—the darkness matched my mood. Late afternoon sunlight streamed in and for a moment I was blinded by it.
Lily saw it first. She whistled low. “Holy shit.”
My eyes adjusted. Below a crowd had gathered. People filled the streets and they were chanting. And what were they chanting? I rubbed my ears, thinking I couldn’t have heard them right. “Wild Minds!” Where? And how? My eyes drew up to the roof of the building across the street. But it wasn’t just a roof anymore. Huge speakers had been set up along with microphones. I recognized Derren’s drum kit and Ash’s guitar. Holy shit was an understatement. It seemed Wild Minds was about to play a free concert in Brooklyn right across the street from my shitty apartment building. What were the odds? More importantly, how did they know I lived here?
I turned accusing eyes to Lily. She held her hands up. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t tell them where you are.”
“Gabe,” we both said at the same time. He was the only one who knew my address. That little sneak.
The wail of the crowd reached a crescendo. Wild Minds was taking the stage, or rather, the roof. Derren sat at his drum kit and started playing a beat. Ash picked up his guitar and began to strum. So did Lix. Last up was Warren. My breath hitched seeing my estranged husband. He wore his typical outfit: faded grey T-shirt, ripped blue jeans and wallet chain. Warren scanned the crowd. I stepped back from the window, letting the curtain fall. I shook my head. What was I thinking? He couldn’t see me through the window.
“Hello, Brooklyn,” Warren crooned, holding the microphone with both hands.
More yelling. A couple fans began to climb the fire escapes. Big, beefy men in bright yellow shirts stopped them. Security, thank goodness.
The sun began to set, lighting up the band from behind. “We’re so glad you could make it out on this fine night for our little impromptu concert. Now, if you’ve been following us on social media, you know there’s a very special reason why we’re here tonight. My girl is in that apartment building across the street, the one that looks like a cross between the Bates Motel and an asylum. She’s probably a little afraid to come out right now. You see, a lot of shit has been said about us the last few days. Some good but mostly bad.”
The crowd jeered, booing.
“Now, now let’s not get too excited. I don’t blame the media for what they’ve been saying, especially about me. But I’m pissed as hell they’ve been going after my girl. So I’m here to set the record straight. I’m not going to tell you all of the details, because that shit is private. But I will tell you Addison Wanks is the best thing that ever happened to me.” Oohs and aws from the crowd. “I’m not the easiest guy to live with. Most times, I act before I think, which happened a few weeks ago. My girl told me some stuff and I should’ve reacted a lot differently. Once I realized what a fuck-up I’d been, I decided the only way to get my girl back was this little concert.”
My fingers pressed to my mouth. He could’ve just called. But Warren never did anything small. Go big or go home was his motto.
“Baby.” He addressed my apartment building, light blue eyes searing through the window, into me. “I know you like that folky shit. I wrote this one for you. Here goes.”
A roadie switched out Ash’s guitar for a banjo. Lix moved to a keyboard and began to play. Derren slowed down on the drums. The melody was soft and slow, deep and meaningful. If love had a sound, this was it. I blinked away the tears building in my eyes. War strummed an acoustic guitar, his mouth opened and he began to sing. His scratchy voice echoed through the streets.
“I’m going to love you till kingdom come
Till the nights are dark
And the days are done
I want you to be my bride
Till I’m old and gray
Stay by my side
I’m going to love you till kingdom come
Till the streets are empty
With the setting sun
Promise I’ll never leave
Got me wrapped around your finger
My heart is on my sleeve
I’m going to love you till kingdom come…”
Before the song ended, I was out the door. Lily yelled my name, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. I needed to get to him. To hold him. I bolted out of my apartment and hurtled through the crowd. Camera flashes went off in my face but people stepped out of the way. I took the fire escape. Big mistake. Halfway up, I was a sweaty mess. I had to stop and take a breather—a couple weeks as a shut-in and my physical health had deteriorated rapidly. Mind you, I hadn’t been that fit to begin with.
“War!” I yelled, cupping my hands over my mouth.
The music screeched to a stop. Warren peeked over the railing. “Jesus Christ, Addy. You could’ve been stomped to death. Again. What the hell are you thinking?”
I made frantic come down here gestures with my hands. Warren obliged and began climbing along with a couple security guards. He leapt the final steps down, landing before me. He grabbed my waist, hauling me into his body. The crowd screamed but the noise seemed distant. He cupped my cheeks. I cried. But the tears were good tears, happy tears. War misread them.
“I’m sorry,” he said, eyes panicked. “Don’t cry. I’ll make them all go away.”
“No, it’s not that. You came for me. I’m crying because you came for me.”
Warren frowned. “Of course I came for you. I’m sorry I’m a little late. It takes a shit-ton of work to set up a grand gesture. You have no idea how many permits we had to pull.”
“I thought”—sniffle—“I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”
“Fuck. The shit that goes through your head, I’ll never understand. I love you, Addison Price. I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you. I’ve loved you—”
I cut him off with a kiss.
This delighted the crowd. Roars of approval ran through the streets.
Warren buried his nose in my hair. “Don’t take this the wrong way, baby, but you kind of stink.”
I chuckled. “I know. I haven’t left the apartment much the last couple weeks. And I’ve been packing all day.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He kissed me stupid again. “I love you sweaty and smelly.” A pause. “I want us to get married.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re already married.”
“I want us to get married again and do it right this time. I’ll give you a big wedding, the wedding you’ve always deserved.”
I shook my head, clutching his shirt in my fists.
“No?” Warren looked crestfallen.
“I don’t need a big wedding. What we had was perfect. Maybe we could do a celebration or something. My dad would like that.”
At the mention of Billy, Warren’s lips thinned but he didn’t comment. I decided to accept his silence as progress.
“Are you two lovebirds finished making up?” Derren called down. “If we don’t start playing again soon, we’re going to have some rabid fans on our hands.”
Warren’s thumbs caressed my chin. “What do you say, baby? Are we done?”
I shook my head. “We’re not done. We’ll never be done.”
An easy smile curved Warren’s mouth. “Damn straight. No more secrets?”
“No more secrets,” I agreed.
Warren eased his hold on me and let go. He stepped onto a rung of the fire escape staircase and began to climb. I followed. A few steps up he paused and looked down, brow creased. “Did you say packing?”
I nodded vigorously. “Remember when you said we could live anywhere I want? And that you’d follow?”
Warren dipped his chin, tongue working the inside of his cheek.
“I have great news,” I said, smiling with all teeth. “We’re moving in with Billy.”
And that was the end.
Well, sort of.