Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Eddie

"I remember when I first started coming to these meetings, I thought they were a crock of shit. As if telling strangers your life story would help. But staying sober without Callie has been surprisingly easy. I have a reason to stay clean, I suppose, both to prove to myself that I can be a better man for her, but also, I miss her like crazy."

"I know you do, Eddie," Olivia says. "Have you considered calling her?"

"Every damn day. But when I pick up the phone, I ask myself: would she want me to call? She hasn't called me, so maybe she wants to forget about what we had. That feeling burns, and I would rather live with a glimmer of hope than be shut down by the woman I love."

"Do you think that's good for your sobriety?"

"I don't know. It seems to be enough for now."

"What happens when you have to go on tour again and all the temptations are thrown at you?"

"I don't know, but for now I'm good," I say.

"It's always good to see you here, and don't forget, if you need to talk at any time, I'm just a phone call away."

"I knew you wanted all this sexy. But I'm sorry, babe. I'm saving myself for someone special."

"Oh, you! Get out of here," she says, becoming a little flushed.

Walking out into the fresh air, I pause when my phone buzzes. After two months, you'd think I'd know it wasn't her, but I still hold my breath every time for a split second.

"How's it hangin'?" I ask, answering Mickki's call.

"To the left today, thanks for asking," he says, and we both laugh. "The reason I called is that you need to come home. We have some good news about the offer we made to Oliver."

"Sweet, bro, be there in thirty."

"No worries. Hey, did you know Sasha went to see Callie?" he asks, and the sound of her name causes my heart to skip a beat.

"No, should I have?"

"I thought maybe you'd asked her to go."

"Nah, man, wasn't me. See you shortly," I say, disconnecting the call.

I wonder why Sasha went to see her. But why do I care? At least she has someone—though why not me? Shit, jealousy really doesn't suit me.

I've gone through the seven stages of grief over losing Callie, but it's on a weekly repeat cycle.

Denial—I wake up most mornings, waiting for her to come in. To yell at me to get up and tell me it's time to get ready for a meeting I don't want to go to. These days are the ones I take myself to meetings. I figure it's my subconscious telling me to go.

Guilt—I blame myself. Maybe it's my fault she relapsed. I should have been there for her, like she was always trying to be there for me.

Anger—I have taken it out so much on Marcus, and even Delilah. They told me doing this was a good thing. Some days I can't help but think if one of them had told me it was a bad idea, I wouldn't have let her go.

Depression and loneliness—most days, when no one is around, I'm lonely. I'd just gotten used to her being around, and now she isn't here anymore. I've poured this feeling of depression into some new songs, ones I won't share. Baring my soul to the world isn't on my to-do list—I'll leave that for Mickki.

That's only four, but steps five and six are about moving forwards and working through shit. I'm not there yet with my feelings about Callie, but those feelings so far have made me work through so much in the other parts of my life.

I told the band I was quitting. Music has always been the most important thing in my life, but it isn't anymore, and that's why I'm stepping down. I'm not a moron, I know I live a certain lifestyle. That's why I am starting Diamond Records.

Step seven is hope and acceptance. I've had days when I think if we're really made for each other, we will find our way back together.

"What's on your mind?" Damien asks.

"The seven stages of grief," I answer honestly.

"You know you haven't lost her, right? You're too stubborn, and I think you're doing the right thing. Though I bet she thinks you abandoned her and don't want her."

"She wouldn't think that . . . would she?"

"Only one way to find out," he says.

"Nice try." I shake my head. He almost had me.

As we pull up to the front of my house, all the usual cars are here, even Oliver's, and I wonder why. Stepping out of the car, I nod my thanks as Damien hands me a lighter and a pack of ciggies. I take one out and light it, hesitating before going inside. Being accused of something like this isn't great, and I really hope they've found a way out.

"What's up, fuckers?" I ask as I walk through the side door and into the kitchen area.

That's when all the hairs on my arms stand on end. The two evil bitches themselves are standing side by side. This is a scene straight from my damn nightmares; Alex and my mother are chatting away as if my arrival went unnoticed.

"What the fuck is she doing in my house?" I say, storming towards my brother, who's leaning against the kitchen bench.

"Which one?" he says, his tone laced with sarcasm. Obviously, this was not his doing.

"Eddie, will you stop being so you for a minute?" my mother chides.

"Don't tell me what to do in my own house. I'm not a damn child anymore."

"I think you should hear them out. It sounds like you've lived up to all my expectations," Mother says, as if she has a damn clue about my life. "Alex is a nice girl, unlike the other one your brother told me about."

I glare straight at Mickki. He should know better than to tell her anything about my life. He can have a relationship with her, but I won't—too much happened in my childhood to forgive.

"Of course, a snake would see one of its own kind. Callie is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and the likes of Alex being compared to her is highly amusing. Someone needs to get to the point or get the fuck out of my house. I have better shit to do."

"I've decided to not press charges," Alex says.

"Good, because I didn't do anything wrong, you psycho bitch."

"Eddie, just hear them out so they can leave," Mickki interjects.

"Fine, what's the catch?"

"You go on one last tour, just in Australia, as a goodbye," Oliver says. "Alex will be your manager, and I will also be there to make sure everything goes smoothly. Then that's it—we'll end your contract after that."

"We think it's a good idea, Eddie. It keeps you out of the headlines and we can all move on with our lives. We've been doing music for almost twenty years, and besides you and Mickki, we all have families and want to settle down," Brodie says, and Benny and Drew both agree.

"If it's what you all want, I'm in." They all look at me, obviously having expected me to blow up or make a scene. I just want this chapter of my life over with. A man can only take so much, and this life isn't for me anymore. "When do we leave?"

"We'll leave tomorrow for Sydney. We have promo to do for the tour, and Alex has managed to get some interviews set up."

"I'll be ready. Now, get the fuck out of my house," I say, walking from the room. Mickki follows me into the studio.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" he asks.

"What choice do I have? But why is our mother here?"

"Money," he admits with a sigh.

"When will you stop writing her cheques?"

"When she dies. She's our mum ."

"She's never been a mother to me. I swear she likes to pop up every time I begin to feel good about myself, just so she can kick me back down."

"Can we not argue about this? I have so much crap on my plate right now," he says, rubbing his temples.

"Whatever. I need to get some shit organised before I leave. Make sure you take her with you."

"No wukkers, I'm outta here. I have some rock star groupies to take care of, unless you want to join us?"

"My dick is staying in my pants for now, but thanks," I say, and we both laugh.

Those are words I'm sure he never thought he'd hear come from my mouth. Once he leaves, I pull my phone from my pocket. Sasha went to see Callie, and I need to know why—and I want to ask her a favour. My hands tremble as I hit her number on speed dial.

Can I really ask her for this favour? She's the only one I can trust.