“Yeah. Sure. Sleep.”
I couldn’t tell Campbell the reason I wasn’t sleeping. I’d made my choice. He wouldn’t exactly be pleased to hear that I’d hurt his sister after all. Not when I’d promised I wouldn’t go anywhere near her…and, well, that was too little, too late.
The worst was that I missed her. I wanted her here with me in LA, living through the best moments of my life. Every single one of them would have been better with her here, as she had been in New York City. But that wasn’t possible.
We arrived at the set and were taken upstairs to a dressing room. Someone did hair and makeup, much to my chagrin. Apparently, those bags under my eyes were more noticeable than I’d thought.
Then, it was nearly time for our interview when an assistant poked her head inside. “Visitor for Weston Wright.”
I blinked in confusion. Who the hell even knew that I was here? I had some friends in LA that I knew from touring. We’d met up a couple times when I was here for six months to record the album, but none of us were close enough for this. Also, none of them could get backstage at Jimmy Kimmel.
I got to my feet and followed the assistant out of the dressing room. And there, standing backstage, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, was Owen Wright.
“Dad?” I asked in confusion. “What are you doing here? How are you here?”
“It’s good to see you, West.”
My dad wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into a hug. I was too shocked to protest. I couldn’t figure out what he was doing here. What was the angle? Yes, he knew I was part of Cosmere now. He’d helped with the paperwork after all. But he hadn’t told me he was going to be in LA. He hadn’t told me he’d be here.
“I don’t understand.”
“I had business in town. I wanted to surprise you,” he said with an easy, charming smile on his face. The smile he always used to get what he wanted.
“I’m surprised,” I said stiffly.
He laughed. “Don’t be upset. I’m proud of you. I wanted to see you perform. How could I miss this big of an interview when I’m in town?”
“I can’t believe they let you backstage.”
“I have connections when I need to use them. Do you not want me here?”
“I do,” I admitted reluctantly.
As conflicted as I was about my father, I didn’t want to send him away. He was here for me. Just me. He’d always gotten along better with Whitt in some ways because they both were in business. As much as he’d tried to understand me, we were too different. It was what had gotten me to go to Lubbock to find out the truth when Whitton could have continued to be blinded by what was happening.
But despite his deceptions, he was still my father. He might have a catch for what he was doing here. It might be as simple as to curry favor now that I was valuable. I still couldn’t hate that he was here. Not when I needed the reassurance.
“I can’t wait to see you out there. I’m so proud of you, son.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
My dad was too intuitive though. He tilted his head and assessed me for the first time. Now that I hadn’t immediately sent him away. “You don’t seem as happy as I thought you would be. Shouldn’t this be your victory?”
I sighed heavily. “Yeah, it should.”
“What’s going on? The dream not as good as you imagined?”
“No, that’s not it. Cosmere is the best band. I’m so grateful to be here, with them, getting to do what I love.”
“But,” he said.
“But…I left someone behind.”
“In Lubbock?”
I nodded. “There was this girl.”
My dad laughed softly. “Isn’t there always?”
“Yeah, I guess.” I ran a hand back through my hair before remembering that the hair stylist had spent a decent amount of time making it fall into place exactly. I dropped my hand. So much for that. “She knew I was leaving for LA eventually, but things got sort of serious with us. But when I got the job offer, we broke up.”
“That’s a difficult situation. I’m sorry to hear that.” And he legitimately sounded sincere about it.
“I asked her to come with me,” I admitted, crossing my arms and looking away, “but her job is in Lubbock. Neither of us would bend.”
“Then it wasn’t meant to be.”
I frowned. I hated hearing that. Nora and I had felt…right. We had felt like I was suddenly coming up for air. Living without her right now was torture. How could this be right?
“Someone has to bend in a relationship for it to work,” my dad continued. “That’s just how it is.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You never bent in a relationship.”
“I bent more than you know.”
My anger grew at those words. “You don’t get to sound superior here. You ruined all our lives with your obstinate behavior. You had two relationships, two families. You made everyone compromise but you. I don’t want to be like you.”
My dad’s face fell at those words. “You’re right.”
“What?” I asked in surprise. I’d been expecting an argument.
“It was my own actions that got me here. I should have been honest. Then, I wouldn’t be alone…without either of my families.” My dad sighed again. “I’m trying to make it right here. I’m trying to bend for the people I care about now. Be there for you and your siblings when I wasn’t. I’d do the same for Jordan and Julian if they let me back into their lives.”
“Do you think you deserve another chance?”
“No,” he said simply. “But I want one.”
His body sagged in on itself at the admission. It was then that I could see the gray threading deeper through his brown hair. The circles under his eyes. The weight that had rounded out his middle. Signs that things were not as good for him as he always made them seem to be.
It was hard to feel pity for him after all he’d done, but I did. I felt it then.
After a beat of silence, I said, “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Good. And I’m sorry about your girl back home. I don’t know if it helps, but I think you made the right decision.”
It didn’t. It really didn’t.
But it was the decision that I’d made. I couldn’t change anything about it. I just had to live with it. And learn to live without her.
28
Nora
“I’m going to get Hollin over to talk to you, Nora,” my dad said, following me around the house.
I grabbed my heels. I needed to go back to West’s house to get more clothes. I’d been too exhausted and emotional to pay attention to what I was stuffing into my suitcase. I needed more work clothes. And I needed to get out of my dad’s house.
“Don’t you dare,” I snapped, whirling on him.
“Well, you aren’t listening to me.”
“I’m not ready to talk about it. I’m not ready to deal with anything,” I told him. I waved at my face. “Please, I can’t cry before I go to work. I don’t have time to redo my makeup.”