15

"You're home early!" Theo's chipper voice reaches me right before he throws his arms around my neck and tugs me into a tight squeeze. My throat constricts as I force a smile and hug him back.

I've been wearing a mask for years.

I can do this.

"Eh, vacation isn't everything it's cracked up to be. All that sunshine and good food gets dull after a while, you know?"

"Oh yeah, sounds awful," he deadpans as he releases me. "You're so tan ! So, obviously, I need all the details, but I have a very important question first. Did you get railed in a janitor's closet, because I have a bet that I'd really like to win?"

My smile is tinged with sadness, the cracks in my heart too painful to ignore in that moment. Memories of Connor haunt my mind. Locked in that bathroom where we couldn't get enough of each other, with his hands on my body, drunk on the connection that I'd never felt with another…

"No, Theo, I didn't get railed in a janitor's closet."

"Did you—"

"Give the man room to breathe," Eric interjects, grabbing Theo by the shirt and pulling him off me. He stares at me for a long second, tilting his head by the slightest bit. I attempt to smile, but I'm fully aware of how insincere it appears. Concern fills his eyes, and he opens his mouth, but I turn away.

Unable to handle his scrutiny, I walk towards my equipment.

Even though I use a keyboard during shows for portability, I prefer the weight of a piano under my hands. There's not enough room in my house for what I wanted, so I splurged and bought one that I keep at the studio.

My fingers drift over the keys, remembering the last time I played.

The first night he kissed me.

"Did you have a good trip?" Eric asks from behind me, and I nod without turning. He grabs my wrist and tugs, and I brace myself as I spin to look at him. "Brother," he whispers, "what happened to you?"

"Nothing." My chin wobbles as I stare past him at the wall.

"This doesn't seem like nothing, Tai."

"It's…" My eyes turn towards the ceiling, trying to contain my tears. "It's not important, Eric. Just drop it, okay?"

His unyielding gaze remains fixed on me, unconvinced by my lie. After a moment, he reluctantly nods and releases me. "If you ever need to get shit off your chest, man, I'm here. Any time. No questions asked."

"Yeah, I know." I force a smile that's more like a crack in the granite of my face.

I shouldn't have come in today… should've realized they would question why I was back early.

Once it sunk in that Connor had left me, the extra four days at the resort turned into nothing more than a bitter joke—a mockery of what I thought we'd shared.

A taunt that reminded me I wasn't enough to make him stay.

I wasn't enough to fight for.

I wasn't enough.

Everything in that room was a reminder of him, and if I stayed there, it would become a tomb for my terrible decisions. A crypt that would do nothing more than close me inside its walls.

The view of those chairs on the beach where we shared secrets and swapped stories.

The balcony where we'd stared out at the ocean.

The bed where we'd wrapped up in each other, where he'd made me more alive than I'd ever felt.

No, without him there, it was off-kilter and wrong, and I couldn't stay. So, instead, I chucked my stuff in my bag and fled.

And I left a piece of my heart inside that room, barely beating.

The lady at the front desk probably thought I was certifiable with the dramatic way I flung my keycard on the counter and told her I was leaving. My mind was so frenzied that I hardly heard her apologies for not being able to offer me a refund.

I didn't care.

I just needed out.

My hand shook so violently that I could barely press the unlock button on my keys, and my luggage was an explosion in the trunk as I chucked it in, not caring when it detonated.

I didn't leave right away. Instead, I sat there and watched every single vehicle pass, thinking that maybe, just maybe, I might spot him and go after him.

After an hour, I started to drive.

Up the Carolina coastline, until the stars were out and the moon bright overhead, and when I couldn't take the cramped space of my car for a second longer, I stopped. Stumbled onto a deserted stretch of beach in the middle of nowhere, and just fucking screamed.

I screamed until my lungs gave out… until my throat was on fire.

Until it turned into sobs, and then I cried until there was nothing left inside me but emptiness and regret.

Exhausted, I forced myself into my car, and I drove home.

The past two days have been a frantic battle to put the pieces of myself back together, but none of the fragments fit anymore. They've been warped and misaligned by my experience with Connor. Everything has changed, something in my makeup altered in a way that leaves gaps between my puzzle pieces.

Time, I told myself. I just need time to realize that I was only caught up in the moment, surrounded by the illusion of perfection that made our relationship seem more significant than it truly was.

Time to snap out of it and move on.

Time to forget him.

Routine was my brilliant idea of a good place to start, with practice being at the top of that list, but I realize now it's a mistake. Eric sees right through me, straight to the ripped-up pieces of my heart.

"Dude—"

Fists clenched at my sides, I whirl to face him, my nose inches from his. "I said I'm fucking fine! " Shocked, his mouth hangs open while the others' eyes bore into me.

Eric nods, holding his hands up with his palms facing me. "Alright, alright. You're fine. I shouldn't have pushed you, okay?"

Guilt slams into me as I push my fingers through my hair, shaking my head. "Fuck, Eric, I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

Eric's shoulders rise and fall in a shrug as he shifts between his feet, his assessing eyes fixed on me. "I mean, I'm certain that I must have done something to deserve it over the years. You were always too nice to hold me accountable."

A small smile tugs at my lips. "I can think of a few times when I had to knock some sense into that thick head of yours, my friend."

"Yeah, fair enough."

My eyes dart back and forth between the others, taking in the confusion and concern written across their faces. "Can we get to work? I'm fine, guys, really. I just need normalcy."

"Of course," Dante says, exchanging glances with Dmitri and tossing his head in a gesture towards the main area. "Let's get started."

Days turn into a week, and nothing fills this emptiness inside me. Years of practice hiding my emotions have proven effective, and my mask is firmly back in place. If you're not aware of the signs, you wouldn't notice the nuances that I let slip when I'm close to breaking.

The way my breathing picks up or my eyes twitches. How I tug at my clothes and reach for my hair, twisting it around my hand.

The sores on the inside of my cheeks where I bite myself to distract from the pain.

It's all so perfectly practiced at hiding.

At Eric and Dmitri's bachelor party, I smiled and drank shots, joked and laughed, gave a toast, and even joined Theo on the dance floor. I cheered and celebrated when Theo and Dante announced their engagement, hiding the lightning bolt of pain that rendered me momentarily immobile.

I'm living my life, and to the untrained eye, everything is perfect. Nothing is out of the ordinary.

I dress in my normal clothes.

Smile and laugh when it's appropriate.

Attend practice and play well.

Cook and clean and take a fucking shower when I'm supposed to.

I'm calm.

I'm cool.

I'm

going

fucking

crazy.

One evening, I'm alone in the studio, playing my piano in the dark, and with each note, more weight presses down on my shoulders. It all just gets to be too much, and I do what I swore I would never do.

I call Cho.

"Hey, cousin!" She's so chipper as she answers.

"How's married life treating you?" The next ten minutes are filled with her talking non-stop, telling me stories of the wedding and honeymoon. I'm dutiful, ooh-ing and aah-ing when appropriate and asking the right number of questions to avoid coming across as insensitive.

"So, why did you really call?" she asks with a laugh.

"What, I can't call to ask how life is treating my favorite cousin after she just got married?"

"Tai." It's all she says, just my name, but it makes me sigh. My pulse suddenly pounds in my ears, and I tell myself to end the conversation, to hang up before I hurt myself even worse.

But no.

The bad decision train is leaving the station.

"Could you give me Connor's number?" I try so fucking hard to sound casual, but it's clear I'm failing miserably. "I meant to get it at the resort, but he had something come up and left before I had a chance to ask."

"You guys really hit it off, huh?" I give a noncommittal grunt, and I can picture the catty smile on Cho's face as she chuckles. "Yeah, he messaged Andrew, letting him know he had to leave before being able to stop by and say goodbye. Funny, though, I never saw you again after the reception."

"Oh, I, uh, text you," I say, uneasily, though I force my voice to stay level.

"You sure did."

"I fell asleep," I lie, like the asshole I am. "The next morning, I woke up early to drive home, and I didn't want to wake you guys up. Don't think I've forgotten how much you love to sleep in."

"Ugh, you got that right." She laughs, and I breathe a little easier. She yells Andrew's name, and there's a quick muffled conversation between them. "Alright, do you have something to write with?" Shaky hands jot his number on a piece of paper, and we talk for a few more minutes, although I couldn't tell you what we discuss.

We end our call, and I stare at the number for a long time.

Then I punch it in my phone, and I stare at it some more.

Finally, heart hammering in my chest, I press the call button. Once, twice, and a third time it rings, and as I'm about to hang up, I hear the click of the open line.

"Hello?" A perky, feminine voice answers, and I freeze, pulling the phone from my ear to stare at the screen. "Hello?" she repeats, more annoyance in her tone.

"Hi," I manage to say. "I must have the wrong number… I was looking for Connor."

"Oh, no, you got it right. This is his phone. He's in the shower."

"And this is?"

She chuckles, an abrupt, condescending thing that makes me feel like an idiot. "This is Beth. His wife."

His wife .

My stomach tightens and I clutch the phone, doubling over and hanging my head between my knees. I open my mouth, but a wave of nausea washes over me, forcing me to shut it again.

Did I… did I fuck someone's husband?

Did I fall for someone's fucking husband?

Her voice reaches through my panic. "Who's this? Oh, wait, actually… that might be him. Hey, babe!" She shouts the last part, the noise nearly cracking my head in half. " Babe!" It's quiet for a second before she says, "False alarm. I'll tell him you called… who is this?"

I hang up.

And promptly fall the fuck apart.