Page 34 of Mending Hearts

“One lackluster concert is hardly spiraling.” I rolled my eyes. “Give me some freaking credit. Almost eighteen months of this and I have one bad night? Sound the alarm!” I threw up my hands. “Mia’s on a downward spiral.”

“This have anything to do with Tyler?” Taryn crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, the clipboard back in Rebecca’s hands.

“Tyler? Please.” I shifted in the chair to catch a better angle of my makeup. Lighter for the club atmosphere, softer.

“I got frostbite from your conversation between the first and second encore. You know what I normally get?” Taryn gave her a pointed look. “Burnt from the heat between you two. Something is going on there, and whatever happened today threw you off. That’s my developing theory.”

“A lover’s spat can do that,” Rebecca said.

“We’d know.” Taryn laughed.

I had rarely seen them fight, but when they did, their animosity was obvious. Neither of them could focus on anything and were hard to be around. Was that me right now? Tyler and I weren’t fighting. And we weren’t lovers, not anymore. I frowned.

“You could do worse than him.” Rebecca’s voice was soft.

“Oh, I know.” I fluffed my hair and pretended indifference. “But there’s nothing happening. Just a bad night. Nothing to do with him. He’s too old for me, anyway.” The way he’d looked at Katie was burned into my retinas. I wanted to scrub my memory clean, give my brainsomething else to focus on. Usually, performing gave my mind the break I craved. Hadn’t worked tonight.

“We’re going to chat with Laura about your schedule. Okay with you?” Taryn rubbed her hands together and then slid them along the small of her back.

“Whatever. I’m fine. If you can convince my mother to slow down this madness, I’m not going to say no.” I couldn’t decide if I should be welcoming or fighting this suggestion. What would I do if I wasn’t pregnant?

The two of them filed out of her dressing room, and the makeup artist put on the finishing touches. I turned my face, watching how the lights hollowed me out and plumped me up. A roundness was starting that reminded me too much of my chubby past.

A knock on the door dragged me back to the present. “You can go.” I waved off the makeup artist. “Come in!”

In the mirror, my gaze connected with Tyler’s when he entered the dressing room. He was carrying one of my costumes, but I knew it didn’t need any work. The games we played. A hint of a smile touched my lips, and I swiveled the chair around, tilting my head.

“What’s up, Pretty Boy?”

“I came to ask you the same thing.” He shook his head and squinted.

“I’m living my best life.” I tipped my chin. “How about you?” I splayed out my hands and shrugged.

For a moment, he studied me in silence. “I’m working on it.” He glanced down at the costume and then back at me. “It occurred to me you might have misinterpreted what you saw between me and Katie in the hall.”

“Misinterpreted?” I raised my eyebrows and rotated my chair back toward the mirror. “There was something to interpret there? Can’t say I noticed.” I smoothed my eyebrows and grabbed a cotton swab off the makeup counter, dabbing random places on my face. If he knew anything about makeup, he’d realize I was avoiding him. “I can’t remember why you two broke up. Why was that again?”

He twisted the scrap of fabric in his hands and didn’t meet my gaze in the mirror. With a deep breath, he made eye contact. “There’s nothing between us anymore. We’ve been apart for eight years, almost longer than we were together.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” The muscles in my face tightened in annoyance.

“I know.”

“I want you to answer my question.”

“I realize that.”

“Don’t be a dick. It’s a simple question. Why did you break up?”

“Maybe the answer isn’t simple. Maybe it’s not something I want to share. Maybe…you don’t need to know.”

“Fuck you. Never to each other, right?” My voice dripped with contempt.

“I’m notlyingto you. Refusing to tell you something that has no bearing on our arrangement is not lying to you. I’m guarding my privacy. I’m maintaining the lineyousaid you wanted between us.”

“I’m giving you a baby,” I hissed, swinging the chair around. “The least you can do is give me an answer.”

“Why are you asking?” He came closer, so close I caught a whiff of the jasmine lollipophe favored.

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