No Tomorrow

“The one he’s been all fucked on for years?” Reece lets out a low laugh. “I guess I owe him fifty bucks because I bet him a few years back that you didn’t exist and you were just one of his fucked-up hallucinations. But here you are.”

I smile weakly. “Here I am.”

He turns and yells across the room. “Hey, Blue! Look who’s here.”

My heart’s no longer racing. I’m sure it’s completely stopped. Blue turns slowly to Reece, and his gaze drops to meet mine, his eyes widening with surprise and disbelief. He turns back to the two women he was talking to, then moments later turns again to cross the room.

“Ladybug….” He says the nickname so affectionately I almost burst into tears. I force myself to not let that happen. I will not be the blubbering ex in a room full of people.

Reece watches us stare at each other, downs the remainder of his beer, then playfully smacks Blue on the back.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” He nods to me. “Nice meeting you. Glad to see you’re real.”

Not taking my eyes from Blue’s, I reply to Reece absently, “Nice meeting you, too.”

Blue lets out a low breath. “Holy shit. I never expected to see you here.” A smile plays across his lips. “I’ve missed you. So fucking much.”

“I miss you, too.” My voice wavers over the words. “I never expected to find you here. Like this.”

“Yeah. It’s been a bit of a ride.” He shoves his fingers into the front of his hair and pushes it back from his face. “So how are you? How’s Acorn?”

It’s the dog’s name, that sweet, furry ball of love’s name, that finally snaps me out of this surreal, polite cloud we’re standing under. I raise my hand to slap him and he catches my wrist mid-air and yanks me tight against his chest. Holding me there, he bends his face down into my neck.

“You can slap the shit out of me, rip my heart out. Whatever you want. But not here.” His lips brush across my ear, sending shivers up my spine and over my scalp. “I don’t want your picture on every tabloid tomorrow with some nasty rumor attached to it. You’re too good for that. Okay?”

I nod against his shoulder and slowly pull away to face his dark, sorrowful eyes. I imagine mine look the same.

“How could you?” I ask, keeping my voice low. “How could you just leave me like that? And your dog? What kind of person does something like that?”

“The kind who knows he can’t be around good things without breaking them.”

I have to give him credit for his ability to admit that straight to my face with dead-on honesty.

Choking back a sob that I refuse to let out, I shake my head. “No. You don’t get to proclaim yourself an asshole and just walk away. It’s completely unacceptable and shitty.”

“You’re right.”

A rogue tear slides down my cheek. “You just left us. You took the easy way out.”

He looks at the floor for a moment, as if he’s letting the words sink in, then returns his gaze back to me. “There was nothing easy about leaving the only two things I care about.”

I want to ask him why he did it then, if it was so hard, but this isn’t what I want. For years I dreamed of this moment, and now it’s heading straight into the direction I feared it would go. A place filled with anger and accusations and no closure, resolution, or new beginning at all. How on earth am I supposed to tell him about our beautiful, smart, adorable little girl in the midst of this awkwardness?

I can’t help but notice a few people standing off to the side, stealing impatient sideways glances at us, and I realize I’m keeping him from fans who paid to spend time with him.

“I should go,” I say softly. “But I have to tell—”

His hair flings over his shoulder as he shakes his head. “Don’t go.” He reaches for my hand and pulls it into his. “Not yet, okay? Have dinner with me. We’ll talk.” Hope flashes across his face—an expression I’ve not seen on his face many times before. “I know you’re pissed off. But I don’t think you came here just to see my band, or to slap me. Right?”

I relax my tense shoulders, despite the turmoil spinning up inside me. “No. I wanted to see you and talk to you.”

“Then let’s get out of here and do that.”

Glancing around at the roomful of fans I ask, “Are you allowed to leave?”

“Of course.” He smiles devilishly. “I can do whatever I want.”

I study his expression before I answer, trying to gauge his intentions. Everything about him seems genuine. No alarm bells are ringing in my head. Nothing about him seems shady or deceitful.