“Because I just don’t fucking feel like it,” I growled, yanking my mic off and walking away, not caring what they thought. “Fuck the encores. You guys can go out there and jam an instrumental if you want, but I'm done. I can’t do this tonight.”
I needed to find Nalia.
The private car ride to the hotel was excruciating. I checked my cell phone a dozen times; each time ended with my thumb hovering over the button that would dial her number. I was afraid I wouldn’t get her or that I would get her and not know what to say. What would I say? This was a serious Catch 22 moment. Any blind man could see there was something wrong between us, something much more than just her not wanting to see me anymore.
As I rode, I fantasized that she just wanted to surprise me back at the hotel, to make up for whatever had been going on for the past month. But deep down, I knew that couldn't be the case. I wished it were; it would have been beyond amazing if it were. But I knew in my heart that it couldn't be. Still, the thought raised a flare of hope just fantasizing about the possibility. I prayed it was true, needed to hope that it was true. But I knew better.
The car pulled up to the front door, and I hopped out. For the first time in my career, I walked in, ignoring the fans gathered there as I made my way inside. Nalia was the only thing on my mind. I hurried upstairs and pushed open my hotel room, still half expecting to find her standing there, that small smile on her face. Instead, I found an empty room, no different than I had left it. Dammit.
With a heavy sigh, I walked over to the bed and plopped down. The flashing indicator on the phone caught my eye. A message. There were never messages in the hotel. A funny feeling attacked my stomach as I picked up the phone and pressed the button. The moment I heard Nalia’s sweet voice filling my ear, I wasn’t sure if I should smile or throw up.
“Owen,” she began, her voice not breathless like I had heard it in the past when she said my name, “by the time you hear this, I will have already headed for home. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not cut out for this and, obviously, my presence is causing more of a distraction than a help, so I think it’s best that I go now. I want to thank you for the opportunity again.” She paused, and I felt a glimmer of hope, hoping that she would say something about us and not this business-like response she was giving me.
“I hope you can find a replacement quickly for the next leg of the tour. I’m sorry. I was looking for something on the road, and I… Well, I didn’t find it. Goodbye, Owen.”
The line went silent, and I stood there, totally unable to believe what she had just done. She had fucking left. And, left me with nothing more than a cold voicemail and no explanation of why she had done this. I didn’t buy her story, not even a little bit. She was beyond cut out for this. She was a natural.
I threw the phone down, causing the rest of the receiver to fall to the floor as I sank back onto the bed, my head in my hands and my heart twisting painfully in my chest. She had left me. The woman that I had come to realize was meant to be mine, the woman I had looked all my life for, was gone.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Nalia
I headed toward the kitchen, following the trail of the aroma of percolating coffee until it completely filled the air. After a long flight and a layover from hell, I had finally arrived sometime after five in the morning. Falling into my own bed was indescribable, but I only had a few hours of sleep before my dreams had morphed into nightmares. And since then, I had barely slept, tossing and turning. I finally realized there would be no way to get any more rest, so I stopped trying.
I knew it had been crazy for me to leave like I had, but at least that way I had avoided any painful goodbyes and awkward conversations. I was done with the tour and the road. It had been a nice fantasy to entertain, but the reality of it had turned out to be something more than I was able to deal with.
Grace stood in front of the sink as I approached, already dressed in her running attire for her early morning jog.
“Hey,” I said quietly.
She all but screamed and whirled around, her eyes widening when she saw it was me. “Geez, Nalia! You nearly gave me a heart attack! What on earth are you doing here?”
“I’m home,” I said, reaching for a mug from the overhead cabinet. “It’s all over with.”
Grace’s arms went around me and hugged me tightly. “I thought you still had another week before you would be home. I mean, Bleeding Heart's tour isn't finished yet, right? What happened out there on the road?”
I shrugged as she released me, reaching for the pot of liquid courage—something I would need a great deal of in the weeks to come, I imagined.
“I just... I guess I just needed to be home. I reached a point where I just couldn't do it anymore.”
She laughed and grabbed my arm lightly, rolling her eyes. “I know that's a load of crap, Nay. Sorry, but I know you way better than that. Hell, I can see it written all over your face. What did he do, and how involved were you?”
“Is it really that obvious?”
She nodded. “Uh, yeah. It is. You know how well I know you. I can tell from a mile away. No offence, Nalia, but you're easier to read than a Doctor Seuss book.”
As bad as I felt, I couldn't help chuckling a little at her comparison.
“Wow, I didn’t think I was so transparent,” I said, setting my mug down and leaning against the cabinet, the hurt from leaving Owen and the jetlag catching up with me quickly after the mild amusement from the joke disappeared.
“Well, maybe not to everyone, but you are to me,” she replied gently. “So, tell me what happened out there?”
I sighed and shook my head as I replied. “I screwed up...big time.”
“Did you screw up, or did you screw him up?”
“I screwed up. Hell, I don’t