She’s distant.
Distracted.
Closed off.
I feel her pulling away from me with every mile we cover, and yet she swears there’s nothing wrong. It’s been like this for a week, since the night I discovered Richie was dying and later confronted her.
I know she’s hurting despite what she claims, because even when your dad’s an asshole, it still sucks to know he’s dying. I would know.
I remember the call. My mom checking in when I was on the road. Funny thing is, I can’t remember which town we were in, or what club we were playing, but I do remember the graffiti on the wall of the restroom I had locked myself in because I couldn’t quite make out the words she was saying.
“Your father, he’s gone,” she stated as the script on the wall mocked me.
You have all the time in the world, until you don’t.
Wasn’t that the damn truth? Even though my dad was always gone, never called, never attempted to establish a relationship, never sent cards or checks or anything at all, knowing he was no longer alive and on this earth . . . it was a huge fucking slam of the door. I never realized how much I’d hoped for something all my life, though realistically I knew it’d never come. An apology for leaving me and my mom. For not taking care of me. A sorry for not teaching me to be a man. Something. Gone. Just like that, in the span of one phone call. It all hit me, and I envision how the words on the wall ran together in a blur as tears filled my eyes.
That’s how I know.
Even though Lexi swears she’s fine, she’s not. She’s tough as nails, but she’s also one of the kindest people I’ve met. Because she doesn’t take shit doesn’t mean she won’t mourn the loss of the father she never had.
I want to tell her this—all these things—and convince her to go, to see him, even if it’s only to say fuck you. But I can’t because she needs to make that decision. No one can make it for her. Until then, I’m gonna love her so fucking hard. That’s something I can do for her, something she needs now more than ever.
It’s after five in the morning when I feel the bus roll to a stop and my arm instinctively reaches for her in bed, only instead, I find flattened sheets. I stretch and roll out of bed, treading lightly through the bus so I don’t wake anyone. To my surprise, I find her sitting in the bench seat, her notepad open on the table and a mug of coffee clenched in her hands. She’s focused on something outside the window, and it’s not until I slide onto the bench that I catch sight of her face.
Tears, big fat ones, bleed down her strong cheekbones and fear grips my gut.
“Lexi?” I scoot even closer. She won’t meet my eyes. “Lexi, baby, what’s wrong?”
She doesn’t make a sound. No sobs, and her shoulders don’t even shake, but those tears keep coming. Wondering if she’s going to answer, caught between pushing her to talk and giving her space, my own words become stuck in my throat.
She finally blinks and lifts her gaze to give me her attention. Those eyes, usually so strong or angry or sassy, are void of their vibrant energy. “Mom called again. He’s near the end. They called in hospice last week. And I . . . I just . . .”
“It’s okay.” I wrap my arms around her and she folds into me. My cheek rests atop her head and the wetness from her tears cover my chest.
“Trent.” She pulls away and this time her voice is much stronger. “I need to go. I need to go home.”
Relief fills my soul at her decision. My own eyes fill with moisture and I blink several times to keep it at bay. I nod. “I’ll pack my bag.”
“Trent, you don’t have to—” I cut her off, my hands cupping her chin so she can’t look away.
“I do, and I am.”
“What about New York?” Of course, she’s more worried about me missing a show.
“We’ll reschedule.”
She shakes her head and backs away from my grip. “You can’t just—”
“Damn it, Lex, don’t you get it? You’re more important to me than some gig. I’ll drop anything to be by your side. I’ll cancel the whole fucking tour if that’s what you need.”
“I don’t need that.” She wipes the sleeves of her sweatshirt across her cheeks and rolls her eyes.
My fingers find their place in her hands with my need to touch her. “I know you don’t, Lex. Because you’re strong. You’re so fucking strong and I love you for it. But sometimes it’s okay to lean on me a little. I’ll help you be strong, ’kay?”
She runs her tongue across the ring in her lip. “You won’t resent me for it?”
“Never.” I lean forward and kiss her lips, tender and unhurried. A promise.
“Fuck, it’s like a Hallmark film up in here.” Austin slams an empty coffee mug on the counter, breaking our moment.
Lexi tries to pull away, but I’m not having it. I follow her movements and steal another kiss, moving my lips with hers as she reclines against the bench seat. I’m practically on top of her.
“Oh, my God! You have a room! Is it too much to ask that you use it?” Austin complains and I finally come up for air.
The soft smile on Lexi’s lips is worth the embarrassment.
“Sorry, not sorry,” I say with a shrug.
Sean slides open the curtain of his bunk and narrows his gaze. “What’s wrong? Trent, what’d you do to her?”
“Why do you automatically assume I did something?”
Lexi leans into my side, and looks up. Her face is stained with tears, her nose is red and eyes puffy, but she’s still the most beautiful woman when she smiles. “It’s fine. Trent didn’t do anything. Wait, that’s not true. He did everything.” Her fingers dance along my chin before finding the back of my neck. She pulls until our lips meet again and whispers, “Thank you.”
“I’m missing something.” Sean grabs a protein shake from the fridge and takes the seat across from us.
“I have to go see my father before he dies,” Lexi says with confidence.
Sean nods. “Of course.”
“And I’m going with her.”
Sean’s brows narrow when he meets my eyes. “What about tonight? We’re playing two shows here.”
“We have to reschedule,” I say.
“Or . . . I can go by myself.” Lexi gives me the out, probably for the sake of the band, but I’m not taking it.
I meet her gaze with my answer. “No. Not happening.”
“But—”
“I’m going with you.” This time she must realize she has no chance to change my mind. I meet Sean and Austin’s concerned stares with a nod. “You guys wanted a few days off in the Big Apple, anyway. Didn’t you?”
Sean nods his head. His lips pull up at the sides, and he raises an eyebrow. “Bedo know about your change in itinerary?”
“Not yet. I still have to tell him.”
He laughs, hard this time and Austin joins in. “Good luck with that.”
“Are you sure you can come with me? Honestly, Trent, it’s okay if you can’t. I can handle this.” Lexi places her hand on my thigh, her words so selfless.
“I know you can, but you shouldn’t have to. We do this together, remember?” I steal one more kiss.
“Together.”