Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 188002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 940(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 940(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
“We’re okay. I’m taking some time off work. I think it will be good for us to spend some quiet time together.”
Reece’s warnings have scared the hell out of me. I don’t want to have to treat Blue like an inmate. He’s my partner and my equal. He’s begged me to trust him and believe in him. If he senses I’m starting to doubt him, that’ll add to the stress he’s feeling over the band and the grief over losing our baby. I’m alarmed at how quickly he thought he lost me. At some point, I have to talk to him about that and figure out what was going through his head, and why he thought I would just leave him.
For now, I’m just going to do whatever I can to fill the next two weeks with as much love and calmness as I can.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Blue convinced me to tell Lyric about the baby, and once my head cleared, I realized he was right. She deserves to know that we lost a part of our family, no matter how young the baby was. We told her together the day after Blue arrived, and although she cried, she was amazingly understanding and sympathetic—showing mature concern for us that stretched well beyond her age.
Reece’s words about Blue trying to reach the baby’s soul have been haunting me, and I realize we all needed some kind of closure.
On Saturday morning, the three of us drive to a beautiful lookout point up in the mountains. Blue writes the baby’s name on a turquoise-colored balloon, and Lyric plays Somewhere Over the Rainbow on her harp as we watch Nicholas Von Bleu’s spirit gently float up to the sky and disappear. Blue stares at the sky with such an intense longing I fear he’s going to leap right into the clouds and try to follow that balloon.
Later that night after Lyric has gone to bed, Blue takes me out on the back porch, lights a few candles, and makes ice cream sundaes for both of us, insisting I let him do everything while I wait on the porch for him with Mickey.
“You don’t have to wait on me,” I protest when he sits next to me on the wicker loveseat and hands me a dish of vanilla ice cream with whipped cream, rainbow sprinkles, and butterscotch syrup.
“I need you to think of me as someone who can take care of you.”
“I do.”
His tongue piercing clicks against his spoon as he licks hot fudge off it.
My thighs tingle in response. I want him—need him— desperately, but it’s too soon for us to make love.
He shakes his head. “You feel like you have to take care of me. You’re always afraid I’m gonna have a meltdown or show up with coke on my face.”
I have never once imagined him doing coke.
“Blue, that’s not true.”
“It is. And ya know what? I don’t blame you. It’s my fault you have to worry about me. But I want to take care of you.”
“You do take care of me.”
“Not like I should be, and not like I want to. I don’t mean just financially. I want you to be able to count on me for everything.”
I wish he didn’t feel this way because I do believe he takes care of me. I don’t view him as weak or incapable. I just think sometimes he’s way too trapped in his own head with his thoughts and fears and dreams.
“When two people love each other, sometimes one has to be stronger than the other. It’s a tradeoff. There’s not a score card. It’s what love is about.”
“I know that, babe. And I’m lucky as fuck that you feel that way or else you probably would have kicked my ass out of your life for good.”
I lean closer to him and press my sticky sweet lips to his cheek.
“I could never do that. You’re too irresistible.”
A cocky grin crosses his face. “Yeah. Maybe I am,” he teases.
There’s no maybe. He definitely is.
“I’ve been doing some more thinking and I want to get out of the band,” he blurts out.
I swallow the ice cream in my mouth. “Really?” I have a love-hate feeling for No Tomorrow. On one hand, I’m so incredibly proud of Blue and the band’s raging success. He’s amazing and talented and just a god on stage. But on the other hand, I can see it’s slowly killing him. His heart is in songwriting and playing the guitar—not with fame and the rat race of being the front man of one of the most popular rock bands in the world. He told me a long time ago he wanted to be more heard and less seen and No Tomorrow flipped that on its ass. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t find a balance.