Chapter 13

*Ryder*

The last few months have been hell. I kept playing her song over and over again for hours. It was the only thing I had of her, the only thing giving me joy. Thank fuck for AirPods and my ability to pretend because Janie had started trying to control even that until I yelled at her so loudly, she almost fell back from the force.

I think I saw real fear in her eyes that day. I'm not sure if she was afraid of me hitting her, something I'd never done, or if she'd realized something else she should be afraid of. I'm not sure how long it was gonna take for her to see the hate I felt for her.

Of course, I've done my best to hide it from her; I'm not such a dick that I can blame her entirely for the mess I'd made of my life. But there were days when I looked at her, and it was hard to keep the hate and dislike hidden.

I hadn't seen Elena since that night at the award show, but it seems like I'm hearing about her more and more of late. She's on the front of every magazine and seems to be the subject on everyone's tongue.

I kept going to the places I knew she used to like, but she was never around. I was starting to think that she was avoiding me, and it was starting to piss me off. I just wanted to see her from across the room, for fuck's sake. It's not like I was gonna try to approach her or anything. Fuck knows I don't need that headache, but just a glimpse from afar would suffice. I feel like I'm drowning without the sight of her.

I don't know what the hell I expected, but this was killing me. It was one thing when she was hiding from the whole world, but now it's just me because she's been out and about with her friends, just not in any of the old places we used to like to go together.

I've spent my days stressing over her and the way this was making me feel and getting even higher than I was before because it was the only way to numb the pain I felt deep down inside.

I couldn't share my feelings with anyone, obviously, because Janie was sticking to my side like a limpet, so there was no way for me to talk to anyone without her hearing. The only person I was allowed to be alone with these days was my spiritual advisor, and for the first time that I can recall, I didn't like what I was hearing.

Of course, it's his job to try to keep a marriage together, but shouldn't he care about my general happiness as well? I'm drowning here, and no one seems to care. My whole life seems to have spiraled out of control since the day I left her at the altar out of anger, and I knew deep down that I had no one else to blame but myself.

But it's like I'm in a rut that I can't get out of, and no matter which way I turn, I'm fucked. My mind had been clearing up a lot lately, even with the drugs. During the times that I was somewhat cognizant, the things that I remembered were all baffling. Why the hell didn't I sign a prenup? That one is still hazy, but I'm almost certain someone had talked me into doing that; I just don't remember who.

I remember that there was a post-nup, but that, too, had never been filed, or so I recall. I just don't remember why that is. As I sat there beside the pool where we'd spent so many wonderful days, my mind seemed bent on recollecting a lot of things that I had pushed away from my thoughts a long time ago.

But why now? Why this sudden need to know the things that I had shied away from before? It's not like I could go back and change anything now, can I? I'd made such a mess of things that even I knew there was no going back. Shouldn't I just make the most of what I have?

I'd made this big move in front of the whole world. How do I take it back without making myself look like a fool? My phone buzzed on the table next to me, and I saw that it was my manager on the line. It had been a while since I'd been on tour or done anything, really. A tour sounded good right about now.

Yeah, I should get out of the city for a while. Go somewhere else, and get back into the swing of things. My fans have been dying for a new album for years; too bad I haven't been in the mood to write anything in a while. Funnily enough, the thought didn't fill me with dread any longer. For a while there, I thought I was done because my muse was gone.

Wouldn't that be a laugh if the world learned that I couldn't produce anything worthwhile because the woman I'd jilted and fucked over was the very one who made me work as hard as I used to in the past? Without her, my creativity was wildly stunted.

I answered him on the way inside, and his words filled me with a certain warmth that had been missing from my life. I used to live for this shit. "It's about that time, you still have one more tour left in your contract, and you haven't been in the studio in a while. Unless you want to piss your career down the drain…."

"No, I'll have something ready for you soon." That's all he needed to hear because he knows me well enough to know that if I say it, it will be done. I jogged up the stairs and locked myself in the studio when I heard Janie calling after me.

She's a real pain in the ass. Probably wants me to do one of those stupid videos for some social media platform to show the whole world that we're joined at the hip. If she could get away with it, I think she'd try to convince the world that we were attached from the womb.

I looked around the room that I hadn't stepped foot in, in years. I'd just put an album out a little before the disaster, and there was another one about a year later, but that was all music that had already been made and just waiting. Since then, I haven't been able to even look at this place without the memories making me sick to my stomach.

She'd spent a lot of time here. I could still hear her laughter when I goofed around just to see her smile. I could still see her here, in the corner with one of her books as I recorded in the booth just across the way where I could see her.

It was bittersweet being back here again, just as it was wherever I walked in my house. I'd refused to sell it no matter how hard they'd pushed in the beginning. Maybe that should've been my first clue that I'd chose the wrong horse. Just the thought of losing this space, the place where we'd made so many beautiful memories, had filled me with a dread I knew I would never recover from.

My heart thundered in my chest as the memories came hard and fast as I stood in front of the locked door, trying my best to regulate my breathing. A part of me almost expected to see her waiting for me, in her little corner, her cute little head bent over the book she'd be lost in until I ruffled her hair to get her attention.

Did she ever know how her just being there had helped me? What a comfort her presence had always been? Did I ever tell her? I hope she knew, I hope that even after all this, she remembered and never forget, that she was my solace, my safe haven in a hail storm. "I miss you so fucking much baby. Damn!"

My vision grew blurry and then things grew dark. I started to freak until I realized that there were tears flooding my eyes and I wasn't going blind. That rage that I'd felt in the beginning came back, and I had to bite into my fist to keep myself from screaming out loud.

I wanted to scream at her for leaving me, for all the things that had led to this, but somewhere inside, I knew that this was all on me, that I'd made the biggest mistake of my life all on my own. I don't know when I stopped believing the lies that I'd been told, not sure at which point I came to my damn senses.

Oh, yeah, it was at the point where she poured her heart out in a song and told her story in words set to melody. Nowhere in there did she speak of her betrayal, only mine. If there's one thing I know about Elena Gianni, she's no liar. Besides, what woman who had betrayed her lover would be so butt hurt that he returned the favor?

I could see her escaping for a little while because of the shame of being jilted, but not three whole years without a peep. Worse than the pain of losing her was the feeling that I had been wrong, that this whole thing had been for nothing. That I'd destroyed the woman I love because of a mistake. It was that thought that kept me from crossing over the line. I think I'm at the point where I'm too afraid to know the truth if indeed it was all a lie.

It seemed that my thoughts lit a fire under me, and I dug out the old book I used to scribble my thoughts, which usually turned into songs. I was exactly where I'd left it the last time I was in here. I could see that day in my mind now, as clear as if it were yesterday.

Her cheeks as she smiled up at me with a ray of sunlight highlighting her eyes. My hand on her cheek as she looked up at me with such trust, such love. For the first time in forever, I felt the warmth of her smile touch my heart, and that one moment propelled me to do something I'd missed doing, something I didn't think I would be able to do again without her here.

I could hear her voice in my head as I wrote, the way she used to push me not to hold back. We'd done that for each other in the past. I guess it says something that her best work was created without me. That's the one thought that had been hounding me for months now. I'm sure everyone else had noticed as well. So now, all those people who never wanted the two of us together must be happy. All those people who didn't want the bad boy to sully their precious little princess.

The pain of rejection was still there, and I tried using it now. It worked for a while, but there was a song, words burning in my chest that I needed to get out. The others were heavy and harsh, but this one was softer, and there would be no denying who it was for.

Fuck it; she made a whole album about me; why shouldn't I do the same? Maybe this should be our new thing, telling each other how we felt through music as a kind of way to keep in touch. Fuck knows she'd never forgive me or give me another chance. This would've been our third too.